


Another Morning in The (Oncoming)Storm('s)cage

by MaddieSimpson



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 12/River naughty shennaigans, Angst, Angst and Humor, Battle on the truth fields of Trenzalore, I don't control what they do, It got smutty, Multi, Poor Life Choices, River fixed something, To Be Continued?, bespoke my ass, eleven is such a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2020-11-02 08:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieSimpson/pseuds/MaddieSimpson
Summary: Rule number one has River Song done.





	1. The sowed seeds of pissed-offedness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First night/last night never happened. Just a warning it deviates from canon a little.

"I think I know where this is going and it's too early for you." She breathlessly panted, not entirely comfortable with things progressing so fast being he didn't really know her. But conflicted since, well, it had been a while.

He released a kiss. "Nope, seems fine." And kissed her mouth again.

He wasn't getting it. She took the sides of his face and pulled him up to make eye contact. "You told me my first time would be your last, that we lived backwards and," He broke from her grasp. "I'll be damned, mmm….if I have two lasts today."

He proceeded to explore the other side of her neck, and replied between kisses, "I probably told you that…to get you…into bed."

Had he not been engaged in present ministrations, he'd have seen her open eyes narrowed, processing the possibility. He continued, "You kissed me for the first time…six hours ago…I was absolute rubbish so I…put the Ponds to bed and came back…was six months ago for you." She could practically hear him smirking.

She gasped as realization dawned. They’d already had their last kiss and she’d been mourning their relationship until he swooped in and…she gasped again.

Godfuckingdamit. He completely seduced her and he had to have known he was breaking his own rules. His own rules that for years anchored her in a pool of depressive anxiety, for one reason or another. With fistfuls of hair she roughly pulled his head back up. "You dog!"

He let out a full-blown belly laugh, completely ignoring the incredulous look she gave him.

"Oh I hate you!"

"No you don't." And still laughing he resumed exploring the landscape of her mouth and jawline.

The sowed seeds of pissed-offedness combined with her having noticed some significant groping and frottage going on had her slamming the brakes on their, his, first make out session. She abruptly pulled way from him and directed his gaze to what was going on below the belt.

He looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry?"

River sat up with a frustrated chuckle. "Oh no you're not. Being the responsible adult in the situation is harder than I thought it'd be." She paused for emphasis. "You know, I'm not letting you live that firsts and lasts ridiculousness down." She searched his face, hoping to impose some understanding. "Do you even realize how sad the thought of our lasts has made me?"

He stood and offered her his hand, completely oblivious to the pain behind her eyes. "I can't wait to find out what the big deal is." He gave her a smug smile.

And she couldn't believe this was the same person she fell in love with.

She opened the door, his hand splayed across the small of her back. Of course, this is where he becomes all touchy. "Well goodbye, River." Turning to face him, she leaned on the door frame.

"Yes, it's been a very long day. I was caught in a time loop."

"My that must have been terrible. I didn't ask you about that."

She blew a stray curl from her face. "No, you didn't." Of course, it’s been months since you asked me how I am, she wanted to say. "Come back tomorrow and I'll tell you all about it." She didn't really care if she seemed rude, she was exhausted and frustrated both sexually and emotionally. Besides, at this juncture she didn't really want to re live fucking up the TARDIS thus creating, up until that point, the most awful experience of her life (that she remembered). So, she put on a face. "Okay, well good night."

And unexpectedly he took her hand and planted a gentile kiss on her palm, pairing it with a sad smile as he released her and closed the door.

She turned away with a tight-lipped frown. He always had ways of making her heart warm, even when she was ready to quit. And that she was. She was completely done playing nanny to that infantile man. And then this recent, flippant admission to lying. Haunting her for YEARS. Just completely unaware, or uncaring or both. She'd been emotionally devastated before, after what she assumed was their last kiss, with him flapping about like a bird on display. And then for him to just swoop in and negate what caused her pain like it was nothing.

"Your firsts are my lasts, dear, we live back to front" he'd said, lifetimes ago.

The TARDIS silently vanished. Of course! He was being sweet and took off the parking brake. She must be his new pet, she deduced as the rolodex of her sesquicentennial mind impulsively flipped through snap shots of his countless young, companionable women. To think, he actually seemed shocked that she cock blocked what would've been a desperate, pawing and emotionless sexfest, starring her as the sacrificial lamb. As far as she was concerned, he could refer to the fucking rolodex if he wanted that.

"I probably told you that to get you into bed."

His words slammed about in her brain in their own time loop. Why would he even say that? He obviously thought it was witty, laughing about the idea. As if their first time wasn’t something they both wanted to at least make and attempt at waiting for. She even pretended like she was a virgin for Christ sake. She couldn't decide if she wanted to cry, break something or run away forever and fuck up fixed time again. Of course, she could find him and murder him. Finish her life's work. It’s her regeneration energy any way.

"Wow what a nice snog, we’re amazing together, but I have shit to do, don't really care about getting to know you, I think bitter is a great baseline regarding my emotional response to you." Okay he didn't actually say that, but his actions had, in so many words.

Not to mention her uterus rippling and clenching with echoes of her recent and abruptly halted arousal. She'd long since come to terms with her body's betrayal of her feelings. And today her human desires absolutely betrayed her, and he took advantage, knowingly or unkowingly. For years her feelings toward him existed on a spectrum that swung harder than Jack Harkness at an intersetellar intergender interspecies orgy. But she could be on the cusp of rage and the Doctor could say a word and her body said, "Fuck me, please." It was annoying except that thankfully the power ran both ways, like a temporal arc.

They could mutually drive each other to the brink of insanity, so there's that. But it was much more charming when he did it on purpose, and not out of complete and utter thoughtlessness. Being honest with herself, even that would have been forgivable except that this time she sensed an undercurrent of bitter cynicism driving their whole discourse. And then laughing about the lie, like she deserved it. Fuck him.

She walked over to her bed and stretched, feeling the sinews tightly course across muscle and bone in satisfying pain. She needed a shower, she smelled like ozone, gun smoke and him. She wouldn't even take off her clothes, she was too exhausted and she'd shower in the morning. What else was she supposed to do locked in the (Oncoming Storm's) cage? Wait for him. And shower. And read. And she forgot to put money on her books. Fuck My Life, she audibly sighed to no one.

Her eyes settled on her bag across the room. She wondered how many books it would fit and chided herself for not focusing more on digitizing them. She'd deal with it tomorrow. She’d decide what to do tomorrow.

She nestled under the duvet in preparation for what would probably be a fitful sleep, as was normal when she was so utterly spent. After an hour or so counting Oods, naming every named fixture in the Sol system outward in (she now remembered Ganymede as one of Jupiter's moons) she finally nodded off while translating Tennyson back into Gallifreyan…

So it was an inevitability that she would be disturbed from shallow sleep by the screeching TARDIS.

Absafuckinglutely NO.

"Can't you leave me bloody hell alone?!" Without even uncovering her head she reached for the nearest book on the bedside table and hurled it in the direction of the materialized TARDIS. River was always one to have good aim, even when not trying, and the book hit square on the door just as it was creaking open.

"Ay!" A woman's voice came from inside the TARDIS . "I've been attacked by…theoretical interdimensional physics!"

Upon hearing a totally unexpected voice River sat up wide eyed, surprised.

Out popped the head of a petite blonde woman, looking about the cell, her brow furrowed in confusion. Her gaze settled on River. "Hey what is this about?" She threw the book over by a pile of other books emerging from under the bed. "Why're you still in bed? It's morning, let's go." The Doctor looked at her expectantly, shifting her weight from the ball of one foot to the other in barely perceptible impatience.

A look of shock spread across River's face. "YOU!" She was completely dumfounded. "It was you!"

The Doctor, with utter disregard to the shit she was in, continued to beckon, "Hey Riv, do I have to get in that bed and make you come with me?"


	2. And that's why you were always there

“Hey Riv, do I have to get in that bed and make you come with me?”

River, overcome with fatigue and disbelief, could only stare; the double entendre going over her head like a plastic bag in an updraft. She should’ve stayed under the blanket.

So, getting no response, and luckily no signs of aggression, the Doctor closed the distance between them and fell to her knees beside the bed. She took Rivers hand, and kissing into her palm, repeatedly chanted some sort of apologetical mantra. Although surprised, River was hardly caught off guard; one revelation, albeit major, wouldn’t negate the years of being accustomed to the woman’s impulsive antics.

River let out an incredulous laugh and took in the sight of this silly, puckish woman with nostalgia. She found it endearing for a split second before she fully realized what the situation implied. This was absolutely something he’d do. One of her closest friendships was a complete fucking sham. So much for the daydreams of returning and whisking her friend away; another thing stolen. How could this ridiculous man, woman (whatever) possibly think that dropping napalm in the form of more deceit would be a fitting response to her very real desire to murder him?

“This is not happening. Jane. Or whatever the hell I’m supposed to call you now. Go away.” She snatched her hand away and wrestled out of the bed to grab her duffel bag, placing it on a console desk stacked with books and papers.

“I kinda fancied Jane, it sounds a bit like my name on your tongue.” Getting no response, she stood up and continued. “Hey, listen, I know this is a shock and I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was in Paris and--”

She blinked back the Doctor’s attempted explanation. “You’re sorry? Better leave if you know what’s best for you. I don’t even know what to do with you.” She began rifling through the books and papers, throwing this or that into the bag. This is incredible, she chortled aloud at the thought. Same shit, different incarnation. How the hell was he able to pull this by her? River looked over to the person who used to be one of her best mates from university. She. Should have guessed from the stupid fucking outfit she refused to change. River realized that if she didn’t get out of that cell and away from him, her, she was going to get homicidal, she just knew it.

“Don’t bother with the books, they’re all on the TARDIS. I came and got your things.”

Hands slammed down on the paper- clad desk with a crack. “What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?!?”

“Just sayin. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Ever.”

“How am I supposed to believe you’re the Doctor when you say things like that?” She motioned about the cell with her arm. “When have I ever chosen any of this?”

“Don’t you start with that, River.”

“Where’s the lie though?”

“Come on, we both know you can leave as you like.”

“Just adds more time to my sentence, sweetie.”

“Why does that even matter?”

“It wouldn’t if I had more regenerations. Time matters.”

The Doctor scoffed and crossed to her. “So, it’s all about you now? I didn’t ask for you to do that. At all. I was ready to die.” And let her watch just like she did him. “From the moment ya stepped in my life I had to do things I didn’t wanna.” Like live to watch them take her again.

“Like marry me?”

“Oh sod off with that, woman! You know there’s no one else.”

River was caught off guard by the almost electrical surge of sexual tension, and looked to Jane, the scowling blonde half-pint Doctor. The penetrating intensity, knuckles white over clenched fists. One move and they could be killing each other or ripping each other’s clothes off. It really is him. That’s why they never slept together; she realizes now. God knows she’dve been game—she was privately in adoration of her for years. But yes, there’s no way she wouldn’t have figured it out. River could only shake her head and chuckle at the audacity and returned to her packing. “Do you even know what just happened,” she asked.

“Yeah, I do know. I was a complete git! And I said things I shouldn’t have cause I’m daft and didn’t know how any of this is supposed to work.”

“Ah well at last the truth,” the cynicism dripping from her tongue like poison. One look at his journal and River knew there was no way it would have led the Doctor back here to mop his messes; it was complete rubbish. Besides if that thoughtless man understood the gravity of tonight’s discourse enough to transcribe it, he wouldn’t have told the lie in the first place. A Doctor conspiracy? Surely this wasn’t important enough for him to cross his own stream. Well more so than they probably were right now. “How old are you even? And how, pray tell, did you know to come here?” River deactivated a perception filter to reveal an impressive arsenal of weapons and explosives organized and spanning from floor to ceiling. Pulling a plazma pistol off its wall mount she began inspecting it.

The Doctor swallowed hard and slowly stood up on the bed, giving her as much space as possible but preparing to make a break for the TARDIS just in case. “Spoilers?”

River looked at her with an icy glare and cocked the pistol.

“Hello Sweetie!”

“Nice try but the failsafe doesn’t work when I consciously, wholeheartedly and passionately want to murder you.”’

“I can’t tell ya how I know, like I couldn’t tell you I’m me! I promise this wasn’t my idea! Please Riv, come on.”

One fucking look at her perched on the bed, in her runners and mac, a ridiculously adorable worried frown. The battle was lost. River sighed and put the gun in her bag, uncocking it with a click. “Wasn’t your idea? Any other face and you’d have been vaporized. Could you be a dear now and go tell yourself that we’re getting a divorce? I’d tell you to go fuck yourself but,” she gave the Doctor a haughty look up and down, “you might have already done that.”

The Doctor gasped in horror and hopped down from the bed with a vengeance. “Okay that’s quite enough! I know you’re angry and you’ve every right to be but to think that I’d, I’d… just God no, ugh!”

River continued to fill her bag in smug satisfaction at having elicited an outburst. God they could be so toxic. “Just go. I won’t ask again.”

The Doctor pulled as much height as she could and defiantly walked back to the bed and sat. “I’m not leaving you. I never want to leave you, never have. Even the first time we met, you had to pull out the handcuffs so you could…could go. Even the TARDIS is a museum, waiting for you to come back some day. Seriously, your stuff is everywhere.” How many times her previous incarnation tried getting rid of it…for it only to reappear. The photos in her bedchamber are fixtures as permanent as the blue doors.

River let out a sigh, dropping her head to her chest. She understood what the Doctor meant, even though she didn’t understand fully the context or the undercurrent of emotion behind the words. But lip service that didn’t align with what happened 2 hours ago was in no way going to work on one so seasoned by deceit. “I…don’t believe you. I’m sorry.”

“River,” the Doctor crossed to her, “If you ever loved me at all, and I know with every particle in the universe that ya did, you’ll do one thing for me.” She smiled, “Your hair looks great, shame for it to get a mess.”

The Doctor received a hard-won smile in return, that was his old line for getting her in the TARDIS, back in the day. “Let me take you,” she continued. “Wherever you want to go, I’ll take you. If you never want to see me again, I’ll do that, too. I’ll take you to that planet, looks like the Greek isles and leave ya there and you can wear next to nothing and drive the locals mad forever.”

It was a stop that wasn’t in the journal, stolen moments. “What about fixed time? Our timelines? You have to know more than I do.”

“Means nothing if you’re suffering.”

“You’d destroy every living thing in the universe to end my suffering.” River said with a half-smile, remembering their words in a broken mirror from a century ago. The same but refracted, disconnected.

“No living thing in the universe means more to me than you. Nothing.”

River’s smile dropped, seeing her own emotional beseeching from that day reflected in the Doctor. Not really knowing what to say and afraid to be overcome by her own emotions, she pretended to continue going through her notes.

The Doctor moved to the desk and picked up a dull yellow 20th century pencil and, leaning on the desk, tossed it in her bag. “It wasn’t a lie you know. Every time could be the last, I found that out early, for us. You were so, so young, and I couldn’t stand your first time and maybe my last…without you realizing you’re everything.”

River paused. Because long ago she saw the truth they would both fight. Their battlefields would exist in their own minds and each other’s, spanning galaxies onto far reaching worlds, spanning millenniums and dimensions. And today she desperately searched the Doctor’s voice and words for a foothold upon which to doubt her. But some truths are universal.

“Think about it, how many times did I say it… how many times to make you understand how precious our time is. Seriously, as if we’ve ever had to say anything to get each other in bed.” River wasn’t looking but could hear the smile. She stood frozen, unable to cope physically and emotionally, not knowing how to hold it together…because the Doctor was right. “You know, there’s at least one thing I know now, and it’s that I control nothing except who I help,” she paused, and tucked a lock of hair behind River’s ear. “And how I love. An I’m not letting you cry anymore.”

River looked up, tears welling.

“Aw come on, I’m supposed to make you_ not_ cry.”

Oh my God, she thought, and finally got it. “And that’s why you were always there.”

The Doctor just smiled as does someone with so many secrets.


	3. But that's another story

The blonde woman appeared out of nowhere, briskly approaching their table, her coat tails trailing behind her as the busy room parted along her trajectory. The reunion dinner between the three friends was thus interrupted.

“Hey, bow tie.” All three at the table looked up in surprise. “Yeah you with the chin.” She dropped a huge leather-bound copy of the DSM XXIV on the table with a thud, jostling the flatware and silver. “Before you go calling someone a bespoke psychopath and expecting them to just marry you and rot in prison, at least look it up, find out what it means.” She turned to go but changed her mind. “Oh, and after you visit her, take her someplace smashing, you don’t deserve her. Wanker.”

And as quickly as she appeared, she was gone. He’d never figure out who she was. He’d see her again but never realize it was her.

“What was that about? Do you know her?” Rory was concerned, his eyes searching in the direction she vanished.

“Seems like she knows who you are, for sure,” Amy added.

“Hey I’m not a wanker!” The Doctor frowned at Amy. “Certainly hope she’s not human or she’d thank me for even existing.”

“We should follow her,” Rory advised.

“Probably in another time zone by now.” The Doctor’s fingers thoughtfully played with his lower lip, as if being scolded and insulted by complete strangers was somehow normal. It wasn’t normal. But her words and direct manner were indeed engaging.

The eyes of all three settled on the book. The Doctor scratched his head and, looking to his companions, flipped the book open to its cover page. Of course, he bitterly chuckled. Property of Professor River Song. He slammed the book shut and his leg began nervously shaking under the table.

“You gonna go ahead and look it up doctor?” Amy half smiled. She knew it was the last moment to tease him, but she heard him there on top of the pyramid, and thought it was an awful thing for him to say, although she hadn’t mentioned it. “Doctor, we saw her yesterday and I know she loves you.” This received a questioning glance from the Doctor. Amy shrugged and smiled sheepishly. She continued, “but you said you didn’t want to marry her, and berated her...” 

“Doctor,” Rory interjected, “If you want to marry her, you probably should do proper. And that’s me saying this cause I’m kind of her dad. I mean, if not you should let her move on to someone else. It’s not right to be married to someone just because they want to. If you don’t really want to marry her, she won’t be happy either.” He chuckled, “And that’s even assuming she’d have you after all this. I’ve seen her angry. Gets it from her mum.”

“Hey!”

The Doctor smiled. “It’s the ginger, makes you look angrier than you are. I always wanted to be ginger.”

“I’m serious though, Doctor. Amy and me can get a cab home. Why don’t you go visit her.”

He huffed. They’d obviously rehearsed addressing the issue. He’d been avoiding it because they were completely right, and so was this mystery woman with access to the most exclusive book collection in the universe. It was probably the worst consenting marriage known to man or time lord. He was ashamed of how he acted, but a time loop is a very frustrating situation for his kind. River at least got to build stuff on a pyramid during it…while he had to sit in jail and be angry at her for causing it. He’d just been at a loss and didn’t want to saddle her with the truth. Well and he didn’t trust her with the truth. She’s a liar and thief. She stole his hand in marriage, like she stole his common sense and sanity.

Amy, seeing him processing, tried to help. “Doctor, just go. At least talk with her. Obviously, she’s venting to friends to the point they are doing the book-throwing for her.”

“Oh fine. If you’ll excuse me.” He begrudgingly rose from the table, placing his napkin on the plate, and adjusted his tie.

“You better be good to my daughter or you’ll be hearing from me,” Amy quipped.

“Your daughter is a colossal pain, when she doesn’t listen. Which is most of the time.”

“Maybe she questions you because she doesn’t trust you, because you do things like make her believe she’s murdering you against her will, when she’s really not. Maybe you should just trust each other, for a change. You could start trusting us, too.” She was already honing the Mother in law glare.

The Doctor took a beat and crouched down to below her level, seated at the table, laying his hands on her shoulders. “I will. I’m sorry. I realize now how…I’m not used to having…” He searched for words and looked over to Rory.

“Family.” Rory finished for him, with a tight-lipped frown. His gaze at the Doctor communicated everything. They’d mourned him, he was their own.

He stood up, with a frown. “You’d think I’d be good at family but…next time you get an older River, ask her about it. But I promise to come back soon. You have my word.” He needed to get to the bottom of random people being involved in he and River’s comings and goings. “And I’ll return this. Hopefully doesn’t get thrown twice.” He hefted the large volume and tucked it under his arm, its timeline containing many more launches, unbeknownst to him.

“So, it is her’s.” Amy realized.

“Mmm not quite that simple. It’s from the Tardis library. A library that doesn’t exist yet, I don’t think. I saw it when I first got her, the TARDIS, she accidentally let me into it. Absolutely breathtaking.” He felt the stirrings in his stomach of pride. The taste, organization, and effort put into creating the space, compiling the art and artifacts. All pieces no one cared about but deserved preservation all the same. He stayed in it for more than an hour, and after leaving he’d searched for it here and there for years. He wasn’t exactly sure it was hers, because he still couldn’t find it. But since they met he had been suspecting, she’d often mention being in the library, but never could be found in the one he knew.

“How do you know the book’s her’s then, if you’ve never seen it?” Rory asked.

“Because it says property of Professor Song. Here in the cover. She isn’t a professor now, won’t be for a long time.”

He tried to land the TARDIS in his normal spot, but she wouldn’t let him have his way, and he had to land outside the cell like in the old days. Opening the door with the book in arm, he was hit with a dirty, inky humidity. Faint light coming from the windows, diffused by the pelting rain. It was the epitome of a hole. River was sitting up in bed, hair wild and generally looking terrible. Like she’d been up all night.

“Ugh of course you’d bother to show up now, I’ve been up all night.” And she plopped back down and pulled the blanket up over her head.

He cared less about the un-stellar hello, and more about the terrible conditions around his kind-of wife. It was damp and cold; River must have been freezing. It stank with the musk of ancient rodent urine beneath current rodent urine, and he could hear them squeaking behind the walls. The furniture was upturned and there were boxes of books here and there, a few unpacked in stacks and piles. It was morning, so the lightning was faint, but his bones shook as a clap of thunder erupted from outside.

“IT NEVER STOPS, IF THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE ASKING,” a voice emitted from under the blanket, the most frustrated and tired tone possible from River.

He unpocketed his sonic and undid the lock. “I didn’t but thanks for the heads up.” Moving here and there about the cell he arranged the furniture in their familiar configuration, which allowed room for the TARDIS. “You haven’t been here that long have you?”

“Three bloody days.” He heard a tiny sniffle.

Oh, no. Unsure of what to do, he fidgeted a bit and decided that it was too risky to attempt consoling her without having a full visual. Who knows what kind of pointy object she could be palming under there. “Sit tight, dear.” And he hurried into the TARDIS and emerged with a handful of gadgets that River would have recognized, had she been participating. Using his sonic he adjusted the settings on one and put it in the window. The next flash was followed by the dampened sound of thunder.

River noticed the new timbre of the storm and sat up, looking at him with tearful eyes and a quivering lip. She hated to cry more than anything. “What did you do?”

He couldn’t help but go to her and sit by her on the bed. “It’s just a perception filter, dear. You can adjust it to block the lightning too, if that bothers you.” He wiped a tear from her face. “Dear, what’s the matter, it’s only thunder.”

“They used to…they used to keep me awake with lights and noise.”

Is this some kind of cosmic joke? What the hell was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he here the second she arrived? Why did he keep running away from what they were when he loved her so fucking much? He instinctively leaned forward to commune his apology and take her emotion, but she backed away the second he felt her. Oh yeah, there’s that. But this wasn’t the time to have that conversation again. And he truly didn’t care about what she was hiding, not today. He couldn’t help but love her. And that’s a dangerous thing when it’s someone who you suspect is living a double life. Or triple life. Or quadruple life. It is River we’re talking about.

“No, I’m fine.” She said in response as she leaned away.

He gave a sharp sigh. “Are you sure you don’t even want to talk about it?”

“No, but can you hold me.”

So, he stood, and took her hand and tugged on her halfheartedly resisting body. “Come on, let’s get you someplace more fitting.” Even the floor two feet into the TARDIS door would meet that criteria.

She plopped back down onto the disgusting mattress, her disheveled hair literally everywhere. “No please, it’s quiet now.”

“Come on you,” and he picked her up and carried her through the threshold of the TARDIS, the irony not lost on him but completely lost on river who was still grumpy because she now had to walk all the way to his room. That was cluttered mostly with her things. She wiggled out of his arms and he chuckled as she stumbled down the hall, still grumbling. After sending them into the vortex and making sure everything was in order for down time, he checked on her to see she’d fallen into his bed (with the sheets she bought on it) and passed out cross ways. And what people don’t talk about is that sometimes that’s how wedding nights go. But there are so, so many more nights.

They both had much to be mad about. But he forgot about the DSM-XXIV. He unknowingly left it next to itself, the one that didn’t have her stamp yet. Maybe he’d ask about her friend. Probably not. I don’t remember but it doesn't matter. Her friend was a savior; he had no intention of visiting Stormcage when he did, he just assumed she didn’t need him, or want to see him. To himself, he admitted he was also avoiding the inevitable fight and possible homicide. Had he not come when he did, however, who knows what would have happened to her. Undoubtedly terrible suffering.

So, it came to pass that he bestowed upon her many gifts: her favorites being a jug of bleach and a scrub brush, a portable field generator with environment controls, a memory foam mattress, Egyptian cotton 1500 ct. sheets with a goose down duvet, and a tabby Maine Coon kitten named Fee-L9. But Fee-fee for short.

They did finally get married while neither was under duress or inebriated. And for a stolen moment, forgotten was their mutual mistrust, and the universe, and all the other living things in it, and they were truly happy. As happy as two Timelordish people could be who had to hide everything from each other. And that in itself was a feat. But that’s another story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The DSM-XXIV is the future version of the DSM-V, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. It's great resource, esp if you're around people who like to throw around diagnoses. Our copy has a sordid history of being launched.


	4. The Palms at Asgard

River had been sitting prose for who knows how long, her arms were cramped. The pain she felt in her back was dichotomously shooting and dull, running along her spine to a point under her shoulder blade. All the while, the ancient machine sat in front of her like a Dalek. A metal mechanical shell with no soul besides what it might suck from its host in the form of data, life force and emotion. And that machine was a typewriter loaded with a blank page.

When she left the console room, her smile plastered and words dropping passive aggressive atom bombs he was too selfish to notice, she was vividly imagining this exact tableau. Complete with the pinched nerves and having to re-live what was now worse experience of her life. Blowing up the TARDIS and a time loop spent in panic was not even a close second.

She missed her mom and dad. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. But there she was fucking holding it together and watching the angel so she didn’t lose everyone she loved in one day, while he was flipping out. She watched them die twice that day. 100,000 words here we come. You’re welcome, Doctor.

The knock on the door interrupted nothing. She looked to her right, past the TV on the dresser to the pink door of the motel room. She was curious as to who it could be, since she kicked herself out of the TARDIS and hid deep within the annals of spacetime. He was just so sad and expecting her to grieve. But she couldn’t.

The fear of letting him see was still there after all these years. All she had to do was cry about something and the wheels would start spinning in dangerous trajectories like a gyroscope with a dislodged axis. She let him see her completely a long time ago, the spoiler of all spoilers. It affected them both from that day forward. Her knowingly by emotionally keeping him at arm’s length, and him unknowingly because he sensed what she was doing. No amount of I love you’s and displays of affection could make up for it. She assumed he hadn’t had that day yet; she knew for a fact it would fix most of their problems. Or maybe he’d run and never see her again.

Was it cheating on her husband to hope it was a petite blonde female version of her husband at the door?

Knocks again. She moved silently to the door; the towel shoved along the bottom to hide her shadow. She leaned over from the side to look through the hole…never stand in the middle, they see you looking and will shoot there assuming that’s where you’re standing. But there was no they, there was a 10.

Hair and glasses. Not the right incarnation but also not the wrong one. This should be interesting.

She pushed the towel to the side, opened the door and leaned her hand on the frame. “Hello, Sweetie.”

He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Oh. My. God. It’s her. “River.”

The look on her face was akin to a cat with a new toy. “Oh, so we’re on a first name basis. So happy to hear. Won’t you come in?” She pushed the door wider and turned her back, heading to the far end of the room.

“Uhh…” He leaned in, unsure, taking note of the surroundings. It was a run of the mill motel room. He stepped inside a few feet. No harm, maybe he’ll see something to give more insight into her. “I suppose I need to give you this,” he said, holding out the yellow shipping envelope he’d been surprised to find leaning on the TARDIS console a few minutes earlier.

PLS. DELIVER UT with Gallifreyan space time coordinates written in thick black marker underneath several layers of cellophane packing tape, topped with a wax seal. An oval with a horizontal dash within it.

And although he was upset that someone besides him had access to his TARDIS, recent happenings had him questioning everything. Present company being one of those happenings. So, upon inspecting the envelope, made from 20th century earth materials and marked in four separate languages, one of which was blisteringly, intimately signifying being either by or about him, he put all that aside and curiosity got the best of him. Hence, he was standing at the threshold of Asgard. Well, the Palms at Asgard, across from LAX on the San Diego Freeway in 1983 AD.

Her face didn’t hide her interest as she walked back and took it from him, again turning her back and taking it to the console desk. “Damn,” she exclaimed as she struggled with the tape binding it. “Evidently you don’t trust you to deliver it in one piece.”

“How do you know it’s from me?”

She responded with a questioning glance. “Seriously?” And began fussing around the desk, he assumed looking for something to penetrate the packaging.

He took in everything. The room was neat, but still had that motel room funk from the days when people smoked. The bathroom didn’t look used, nor the bed. There was a maroon burlap duffel bag on the chair with what he assumed were clothes overflowing. On the cluttered console desk was a paper shopping bag with a bottle of wine emerging from the top. Next to it was a mechanical typewriter.

“Going old fashioned I see.”

She sighed. “Don’t ask.”

“You know you could just use your sonic to melt the tape.”

She gasped and looked at him with a sarcastically excited smile. “I have a sonic?!?”

His eyes narrowed.

She held out her hand, her grin now smug.

He rolled his eyes and she laughed, and their wordless discourse ended with him begrudgingly removing the sonic from the breast pocket of his blue jacket and tossing it to her.

His eyes perused her. Her hair was styled in waves, wearing a boa lined sheer robe with an obvious floor length negligée underneath. She had a pleasant smile on her face as she adjusted the settings on the sonic and feeling the package’s contents, singed across the top. She deactivated it and tossed it back to him. “Thanks.”

“You seem happy.”

“I’m getting a sonic someday,” she said with a quirky smile that flipped his stomach. Damn it. Not again. He was done with getting emotional about people. He was taking a hiatus from companions for that reason. No matter what, he kept getting attached. And here was pretty good evidence he did it again big time, and she was dead, and it was really pissing him off.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by her gasp. She had halfway out of the package a book, that she clutched to her chest. “Oh you.” She opened it briefly and closed it, kissing the cover and looked at him with a sideways glance. “Oh, what a good boy you are. It would have been very bad to read this.” She looked at the book again. “And I could kiss you right now if you wouldn’t run. You are beyond impossible.”

“Ok,” Confused and done, he motioned to the door. “Can I go now?”

She looked at him with a frown. “Why?”

“Because I have no idea what’s going on, I don’t really care, and I’m pretty sure I just ran an errand for myself and I don’t like it.”

“Oh, please stay. You really have no idea how much you just helped me.” He could sense her sincerity.

“Come on,” she continued, “I’ve got snacks, and the sun sets so nicely here.” Without waiting for him to answer she retired the book beside the typewriter and grabbed the paper bag, slipping into shoes adorned with boas matching those on her robe. She grabbed two glasses from beside the TV and motioned him to leave before her.

He looked at her condition with confusion, she was hardly fit to go out. “Aren’t you going to put something on?”

She looked down at herself then to him, and realization dawned. “Oh, yes you’re the vain one.” And pushed past him.

Any reservations he had about fraternization were pushed to the wayside upon her accusation. “I am not vain!”

She led him along the balcony down the stairs. “So, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It’s a bit revealing, don’t you think?”

“Ah, so you’re the possessive one.”

“Possessive of what?”

At the bottom of the stairs, she gave him a sultry raised eyebrow.

He was not in the mood. “No.”

She broke and gave the most warming childish grin and laughter. “Come on, it’s over here.” And turned the corner into a breezeway. What the hell was happening?

At the bottom of the stairs his eyes sought out the TARDIS, parked in a legal parking space, and not a forklift in sight. He rarely travelled to the US after having had it impounded, they didn’t seem to care that it wasn’t a car. Quite ahead of the times.

Well here’s his chance to leave. He was a strong empath and being with her today, he knew whatever he’d participated in was important, and that she truly wanted him to stay. Ditching her would probably make her upset and he wanted to be nice. It’s just snacks and wine. Least he could do all things considered.

So, he followed her through the mildewy cement breezeway, emerging into the motel pool area, if you could call it that, because the pool was a concrete hole. She’d gone through the gate ahead of him to the far end and was turning over tanning chaises, facing the freeway, below them.

He walked past her to the fenced ledge overlooking the 12 lanes of freeway, and turned to face her, taking in the complete affect; the pink motel illuminated by the setting sun, and empty pool with dingy grey plastic patio furniture, the road noise. The buzzing, fritzing green neon palm trees adorning the sign. She looked up with a smile and sat. “Just wait, it gets better. Sit.” She took some crackers and canned cheese out of the bag. “Come on, you’re thinking too much, just be. Sonic?”

He frowned and sat on the chaise pulled next to hers. “Seriously they named this place Asgard?” And handed her the sonic again.

“Yep.” She expertly circumvented the bottle of pinot noir, melting the glass and dropping the corked top to the ground. She poured a little out on the ground cooling the glass with a hiss, he gave her a look and she shrugged. “I learned from the best. Wine?”

“Fine.” He replied, resigned. She poured and they toasted. “To what?”

“To really, really making my day end well.”

“Well I’m happy to help, but you’ll want to tell me that I’m not a parcel service.”

“There must have been some reason you couldn’t.” He noticed her sadness in that simple phrase, containing fathoms of meaning. He wanted to understand and make it better.

Just then a commercial freight airliner buzzed directly over them, so close the roar was deafening as it cleared them and the freeway below to land on the runway on the other side, the sunset extending over the Pacific and just beginning its gold reflections off the tarmac. “Oh wow.”

“Told you.” She squeezed the cheese onto a cracker and offered it to him. He mindlessly took it as he continued watching the plane land.

“What is this?” His face scrunched.

She laughed. “Don’t ask.” And he watched her casually lick an errant blob of cheese from her finger. “So, how was your day?”

“Hmm?”

“Your day.”

His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to reply but changed his mind. “I guess no one ever asks me that.”

She gave him a smile. “Well someone is now.”

And they reclined and she listened, and he talked, and they laughed. And she bit her tongue when he complained about problems with the TARDIS and he bit his tongue when she was talking and he thought about how she ended her life; four thousand and twenty five people saved, Donna included. A few planes flew over and golden hour turned to magic hour. Then she poured them more wine and walked to the fence overlooking the freeway, and the runway now illuminated with lights.

He stayed reclined against the lounge and watched her, the sheer robe flying behind her in the sea breeze, the grey light of the escaping dusk creating a subtle penumbra. He’d been taking her in all evening. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful but classically, in poise and power. She was frightfully smart. And witty. And playful. He put down his wine and joined her. “It really is beautiful. In a cosmically ironic kind of way. They’re destroying the planet,” He said.

“Not for long though.”

“Look at them. So many, living their own lives and going someplace important.”

“They are important, Doctor. They are here because of you, because you made them important enough to save.”

He frowned. Saved again. Did she know? That she’d done just that? Is that how it works, that people like her become martyrs because he made everyone else more important? He wondered why she said that.

“You might need to hear it right now. You’re very sad. And you do so much good. And influence others to do the same. You lose sight of that, sometimes.” She answered the question he hadn’t asked.

He was taken aback and looked at her, confused. Her hair that had been styled was now forming wild ringlets in the night’s humid breeze. With the scrutiny of a biologist and a new specimen, he reached out and pulled one, watching it bounce back. “What are you?”

She smiled coyly. “I’m me.”

He continued to study her profile, and swept the hair off her shoulder, immediately sensing her reaction as her head tilted to grant him access to her neck. The feel of her skin was an almost subtle electrical charge conducted at his fingertips. Addictive. Very, very bad. “So you’re telepathic, probably not human. And I’m pretty sure you’re emitting some pheromone because despite everything I still really, really want to kiss you.”

“It’s really not that that simple.” He couldn’t see her smile but he could hear it, unbelievably provocative.

Moving behind her and, his hand holding back her hair, he hovered his mouth over her neck as he took in the scent of her. He felt her body respond as she leaned back into him and he reflexively snaked his other arm around her waist, his hand inside her robe and thumbing over the slick satin of her nightgown.

“Let’s pretend it’s that simple,” He growled into her ear as his mouth gently dropped to her neck.

She audibly whimpered as her head rolled back, her fingers making their way into his hair at the base of his skull and setting his neurons ablaze. This wasn’t just pheromones. He continued exploring, tasting below her ear, nipping her earlobe, feeling her pressing into him in response to his tongue sweeping her skin under his mouth.

He felt her other arm possessively upon his, as his hand had moved up and was firmly caressing the skin over her ribcage. He loved to love, he loved making love. But this was different. This was familiar. The entrance into infinity, like the seamless connection of a mobius strip. As his mouth trailed up to her jaw, her head swiveled slightly toward him, accepting, anticipating. He felt her flush in synchrony with his arousal and knew they were both at the cusp of dropping into overdrive.

“Don’t. Doctor, I… we can’t.” She was breathless.

Upon being interrupted he could now sense in her conflict. There was something wrong. He released her and she walked a few steps away to get some air. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re so curious and sweet and you drink wine.” She had her back turned and was swaying gently with the breeze. Or the wine. He was feeling it a little too.

He leaned back against the rail with arms folded, looking up. “Well I’ve been told I’m completely irresistible, so I’d be sorry, but I can’t help it.”

She looked back over her shoulder. “See there you go again. Do you want to remember this?”

“What?”

She turned back to him, almost pleading. “I really want you to remember this. I'm having such a wonderful evening; and I think you are too.”

“I… this has been a fantastic evening. Why would I not want to remember this? When we met before—"

“Sweetie, spoilers.”

He frowned, forming his words, and closed the distance between them. “What I’m saying is that it’s been a long time since I… I laughed, and I don’t really know you and I...”

As his words trailed in his utter failure to articulate his feelings, she looked at him with a mischievous expression he’d soon come to recognize. “I… always miss you too.” He could tell that there was so much she wanted, and he could tell it had something to do with both of them, the TARDIS and getting the hell out of this dump of a motel.

But instead, she demurely kissed him on the cheek. “Then let’s keep this. I do wish we had more time. Doctor, thank you for bringing the package, and sharing the picnic.”

“I’m very glad we did.” They both looked down at the crackers and canned cheese. The Doctor frowned. “Well the wine was good.” And they shared a smile. He wasn’t following the whole remembering and not remembering business, but he did follow her feelings about wanting more time. No doubt they would get along smashingly, and he’d have been all for running away for a bit, had she proposed it.

But, in keeping with the time they had, he went and picked up the glasses and the bottle, pouring a little in his glass and what was left of the bottle in hers.

“Oh, you know I can’t drink all this,” she whined.

“Oh, hush. You destroyed the bottle. One last toast. To new friends, old friends and someday finishing what we started.”

She giggled and threw him a sideways, tipsy smile over her glass. Oh my God, I’m so going to marry her, he realized. And he was completely terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI Canned cheese, or also referred to as "easy cheese" is an American concoction that is literally pressurized cheese spread that comes out of a can, like whipped cream. For the connoisseur it's absolutely disgusting. But the only cheese you'll find at a gas station and a frequent fixture in Amerircan picnics and road trips.


	5. Augmented with the taste of iron

Yaz, Ryan and Graham were ahead of the Doctor, walking from where they parked the TARDIS and were about to enjoy a coffee along the Seine. It was Yaz’s birthday and she mentioned at one time she hadn’t yet been touristy in Paris. So, as a surprise the Doctor chose a modern and relatively benign time in which to take them to see the touristy things. 1995. What happened in 1995? Exactly. Nothing.

Almost nothing.

The Doctor was smacked in the brain by the color violet, coming diagonally from across the street. She slowed down, losing her group, squinting and trying to locate the source. And dead in her tracks, she saw her.

Blonde spirals, long and draping her shoulders. Sitting at a café table, bent over, torso slightly heaving in sobs the Doctor knew she fought with unbelievable might to conceal.

“Oh no...” The Doctor frowned to herself, bleeding empathy for whatever pain her old best friend was feeling. More than best friend. Best everything. She looked up to the sky, wondering what force of fate and physics destined this, for her to see a loved one suffer sadness knowing intervention may be tragic. And it was River, it took a great deal to make her break.

The Doctor was distracted by a hand waving in front of her face. She shook her head. “What??” and looked to Graham, who was taken aback by her exasperation.

“Hey, I was talking to you. Are you OK?”

“Yeah I’m fine. Just saw an old friend.”

“Doesn’t look like good memories, by the look on your face.”

She shook her head. “No, they’re amazing memories. The best memories.” And she looked up and saw the café table across the intersection empty. “Hey, the shop is up the street a little, I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.” Gram called after her. “You better not ditch us if you know what’s good for you!”

She characteristically ignored his last comment and went to the table where River’d been seated and looked around. She saw River down the street, checking behind herself, and turning down an alleyway. The doctor followed quickly only to reach the alley just as a blue strobe emitted, followed by a crash of thunder. She gave a frustrated sigh and reaching for her sonic, took readings of the area. Sometimes it’s able to get readings that the TARDIS console processor can recognize. There’s a good chance that River went off to a time frame and place the TARDIS had been, too.

The Doctor fought the urge to follow her right then and there. But she’d grown to be content with where she was, and who was important in the here and now. She had a time machine, and if she was meant to follow River, the TARDIS would take her in 5 minutes or 5 hours or 5 days. Resigned, she turned to return to her friends and celebrate a birthday.

They all made it back to the TARDIS that evening, after having coffee, seeing the Louvre (The Doctor had to take them on the expedited jogging tour which highlighted all the art she was in, or inspired, or that she saw before its completion) and ending with snacks and wine at a local bar(Graham earned it after the jogging). Her companions were all a bit drunk, even Yaz, and would sleep for a while.

The Doctor input her screwdriver to transfer the data to be analyzed by the computer. Yes of course, Luna University. It was early, she’d just been there a little more than a year. Hmm. A myriad of questions mucked about in the Doctor’s brain.

First off, when did River get a vortex manipulator? She paced around clutching her head. The memories were from so, so long ago. She didn’t remember giving it to her. She remembers being daft about River having it and confiscated it countless times. The sly cat probably kept stealing it and giving it back to herself just to make life difficult. In their later years she knew for a fact she could make one. God she still loved that woman.

So, regarding the situation in question, she couldn’t for the life of her remember what had happened to make River grieve like she was. So young, and in such a strange place. The Doctor thought that maybe it had nothing to do with her, the TARDIS let them land without a fight. Then it hit her.

She could go into the flight history. Another recent discovery.

She input the data ranges and it brought up another landing, left just a half hour before they arrived. So, it must have been me, she scowled. She just couldn’t for the life of her remember. And she felt terrible about it. The landing was farther in bow tie’s timeline, he would have been travelling with Clara, probably. Oh, Clara. But one at a time. Something was very wrong for River to cry like that.

So, it was time to decide. She could massively cross her time stream and attempt to watch what went down earlier. Or she could follow River and try to find out. But that was no guarantee that she wouldn’t cross her time stream with that too. Luna during River’s stay is a TARDIS hot spot for obvious reasons. So, the Doctor decided to throw caution to the wind and see what Sexy thought.

“Find River when I need to see her.”

She didn’t even flip the lever. The TARDIS engaged and landed.

She hesitated, knowing with blistering clarity that she was being stupid and sentimental, her past selves were screaming at her to stop. Her hearts, however, were screaming for her to go, realize her mistakes and maybe have a positive effect. She pulled the door back with a creak to reveal the beautiful walled courtyard of the villa they shared for all those years on Darillium.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of River across the yard, sitting on a patio sectional, her legs tucked beneath her, reading a book. A real book of course. A glass of white wine on the table. Her hair silvering, absorbing refractions of the perpetual moon and stars. The reading glasses River finally wore in their company. Her head wasn’t raised, but she no doubt knew the TARDIS landed.

The Doctor crossed the yard, not sure how this would go, not sure River had yet met her face. But maybe she had, it just depends on what happens next. “You’re back so soon.”

“Never get those eyes fixed, the glasses are unbelievably sexy.”

River looked up, and a hand covered her mouth in surprise. The Doctor could see delicate crow’s feet as her eyes smiled joy. In one motion she took off her glasses and stood, the forgotten book hitting the ground, and ran to her. “Oh my God,” She said as she hugged her, and held the Doctor’s head in her hands. She kissed her face and their hungry kisses homed on lingering mouths. “I’ve missed you so, so much.” As they broke for air, their foreheads were touching, communicating emotions between them. “What’s wrong, my love,” River asked.

The Doctor looked up to her with a furrowed brow, fighting to conceal sadness. “I’m just so happy. I’ve missed you more than words can tell.” She stood up on her toes and caught River’s mouth again, gently running her hand up her neck to her hair. But instead of deepening the kiss like any of her other selves, she embraced River, and nuzzled into her neck. And River led her to the couch and held her for a few of the stolen moments they had.

“I’m so happy you came, my love. But I’m sure there’s reason…” River was reclined on the arm of the couch, her arms around the Doctor, nestled to her side.

“Don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

River stroked up and down her arm. “That’s perfectly fine.” And they lay together in silence, feeling the telepathic connection without even trying. This was the kind of thing that made translating Gallifreyan love stories so complicated. Because they were complicated. Full of absence and reunions and new personalities and walkabouts and frivolous lovers and crossing time streams, and in the most scandalous volumes stealing each other away from themselves and altering timelines… but at its most basic, a species mating for life.

“I saw you crying.” The Doctor broke the silence. “In Paris. I couldn’t for the life of me remember what happened. You were beyond upset. And the TARDIS brought me here.”

River in took a sharp breath. So, this was it. “Yes, I’ve known you’d come.” And she rose, opening the sliding door and entered the house but not before she called back. “Of course, come in. Would you like anything?”

“You.” The doctor reached for River’s wine and took a draught, the terrible stuff. 

River responded with a chuckle and The Doctor grabbed the pillow River’d been laying against and hugged it to her. She was completely oblivious to the sorrow behind the Doctor’s response. Firsts and lasts were the absolute worst. Preferring to distract herself instead of dwell on the myriad of potential inevitables, the Doctor rose to snoop around the house.

If you could even call it snooping, it’s my house, she thought. She went to the baker’s rack by the door, littered with plants and herbs in different stages of death. They were both terrible at plants. She picked up a ceramic gnome she remembered, holding a sign that said, ‘please grow.’ He wasn’t helping. Serves them right trying their first gardening foray on a planet of perpetual darkness.

She heard a familiar mewl and turned to see the Silver tabby perched expectantly on a patio chair.

“Hey, no way. Hey you! Oh man, Fee.” She closed the space and scratched the cat’s head. “Watcha up to sweetie?” The cat accepted another stroke then grabbed her hand with claws and bit, playfully, practically hanging off the Doctor’s hand. “Ahhh yes, you are such a bad girl.” And gently pulled her hand away. She chuckled.

“That’s Fee 3. I think she remembers you.” River called through the patio door.

She looked at River questioningly. What an interesting evening this is becoming. She followed River inside to the sitting room, the white couch, rustic wooden coffee table, books neatly on shelves. The only room that wasn’t complete chaos, she knew.

Of course, River was carrying the damn diary. Sitting, she put on her glasses and pulled a yellowed and folded piece of paper out of the back. “Here, if you’re interested.” And as the Doctor joined her on the couch, River pushed the faded blue book in front of the her. The Doctor wasn’t really in the mood for a trip down memory lane. But she flipped through it out of politeness and stopped at an amateurish sketch of an angel and a pelican on the beach. She silently wondered if it held the image of an angel enough to be an angel. Probably not, River was terrible at drawing, thank goodness. She was also virtually illiterate in most 3rd and 4th dimensional languages. Drove her nuts.

The Doctor looked over at her writing, indistinguishable runes, and her face scrunched in confusion because the translation matrix should make her able to read about any language…. unless it was disabled. “Oh you are really somethin else,” She smiled in realization. “What language?”

“Aramaic.”

“Well good thing I kept cancelling my trip with front row seats to Christmas.”

“I KNOW. Why do you think I kept heading you off when it came up?” 

“Tell me what I’m not supposed to read.”

“Where you need to go,” she hadn’t looked up.

“How many?”

“You’re going to be busy.”

“When did ya start keeping a diary?”

“When I found out you were you. And then I tried to remember what I could.”

She gasped with a mischievous grin, “Oh no… are you gonna be mad? You don’t have to spoil it but I bet you’ll be so mad.”

River gave a half smile and looked over her glasses. “Wear kevlar.”

“Oh I can’t wait.” She was totally serious.

“You probably don’t want to do these all at once.”

“Oh I’ll do them all at once. You know how I get about you being upset.”

River looked at her with unfathomable fondness. “Yes, I know, and you’re unequaled in how you mediate that, my love. But take your time.”

She looked at River, a lot excited and slightly terrified. After centuries apart even their verbal counterpoint resumed flawlessly. She was off the wagon and any thought of without her now, and the detox, was pushed far, far away. “So how do I make it so I can read Sanskrit.”

“Not Sanskrit, they’re different. There’s a prompt under the control panel, language matrix and scroll down to and click to activate. It’s at the bottom under XYZAramaic. Or you could always just ask her nicely.” The doctor met her face and River was smiling to herself as she double checked the notes and made corrections. The faint wrinkles from laughing round her eyes and mouth. Evidence of the unbelievable happiness and contentment they shared. She vaguely remembers pulling out stops to convince her that she wanted to see it. Why would someone not want to see that evolution? How could someone make her believe they didn’t want to see it?

How could someone, unless he was a selfish jackass with no self-control.

She leaned in and left a sloppy kiss on River’s neck, trying her best to create a distraction. Eliciting a chuckle, she smiled into her skin and gently nibbled, hoping to make her a little crazy. She and River were going to have a great deal of fun. “How long till dad gets back?”

“Well, I disabled the paradox machine so he shouldn’t be able to land.”

“Huh.” She was feeling relaxed and lightheaded, and swept her hair off her shoulder to taste that place behind her ear. “I was wondering bout that. I wonder if we can install a toggle switch.”

River chuckled. “Yes I’m sure we can.” She smiled. The Doctor didn’t know that River would, very soon. She paused and became serious. “I know it’s early for you.”

“That’s not important.”

“I know this is the first time you’ve seen me in that body.”

The Doctor took in a breath, rocking back. “You know, I’m done with firsts and lasts. Can’t we just be? I really, really don’t want to think about lasts. Or firsts for that matter. I didn’t realize how much I missed you.” She secretly wondered how often River was massively attacked with affection from random strangers who were future incarnations. Then she wondered if any were doing what she was doing right now and felt a niggle of jealousy, looking at River with narrowed eyes. Besides death tomorrow she couldn’t see herself staying away, not forever. It was stupid to think she would.

“Because, I have to tell you something. I think-” Penny in the air.

The Doctor took in a sharp breath, those words coming from River were never followed by anything good.

“If I never see you again, if this is the last time-,” tears brightening her olive eyes. 

She let out her breath. “Stop.” The Doctor warned.

“Because if something happens and I never see you again I need you to find someone and be happy. It’s okay.” Penny drops.

“No, River, come on now. I just got here, and I kinda feel like you’re breaking up with me. Again.” She shook her head, confused. They’d never had this conversation and weren’t having it now either. Besides, why was she saying this now, to her? She’d just been here an hour and she was already starting to think opening the TARDIS door was the worst fucking idea imaginable, after all. She didn’t want to leave.

“Oh, we’re not breaking up, you idiot,” a laugh escaped despite her seriousness. “You’ve got to finish this list, and I... don’t know what comes next for us. I just need you to know that whatever happens-"

“I know everything I need to.” She was losing her patience.

River moved on, ignoring her, a single tear escaping. “You’re not like them, you can be alone-“

“I said no.” The Doctor sat up and leaned forward, imploring.

“But you don’t deserve it. I just need you to know it’s okay.”

“NO.” And the doctor crashed into her mouth, with a fervent bite, hands clutching the sides of her face, that God forsaken eulogy of a planet spinning off its axis. She refused to continue mourning when River was sitting in front of her, she’d done it for more than half her life. Pulling back to meet her eyes, with the intensity and confidence had by the commander of millions. “No.” And fell on her again, every ounce of energy expressing one word, irreplaceable, her conveyance augmented with the taste of iron.

“Dear, your pets have escaped.” River was looking down upon the courtyard from the upstairs window.

The Doctor took her by the waist as she looked around her shoulder and nestled against her, following her eyeline. Indeed, her three companions were in different stages of exploration outside in the courtyard. “Damn.” None appeared to have made it into the house. “I put them to bed. How long were we here?”

She and River had over the course of the night several apologies and forgivenesses and make ups and snack breaks. The most important apologies were from River for dropping a reality bomb right out the gate, one that no Doctor would take well. And from the Doctor for losing composure a little and having to use more regeneration to heal her lip. By the end of their lives the sum of an entire Doctor would be used just on incidentals between them.

“Time has always been our most fitting adversary, my love. Three now? Or are more coming out.”

“No just three.”

“Just three,” she replied with a chuckle and headed to the stairs. “That’s a lot to keep track of.”

“Sometimes but I kind of like it. You want to meet them?” She said, following, and was met with a raised eyebrow.

“What will you tell them?”

“That you’re my wife who I’ll adore to the end of time.”

River rolled her eyes, lost on the fact that the Doctor was 100% serious, and at the bottom of the stairs went to the coffee table to get the notes. “You spent all that time erasing us from history just to entrust that information to a bunch of small brains?”

“Hey when did you get so cynical about humans? Your parents are human.”

“When I hit 40 cumulative years as a university professor.”

Her mind jumped back to her own years of tenure. “Yeah I think that might do it.” She passed River and entered the kitchen and hollered from within. “Can ya clean up this mess ‘fore I get home? Don’t even remember what the top of the kitchen table looks like.” She emerged, twisting open an Orangina and took swig. Her face scrunched, weighing her dislike, and smiled. “Yep, still love it.”

River closed the distance between them and handed her the paper. “Remind me to buy stock next time I’m in town, between what you two must go through they could open a bottling plant.”

“Insider trading now, are we?”

“I dabble. You never once asked how I can afford all this.” River closed the distance between them and sweetly kissed the corner of the Doctor’s mouth. “Goodbye, my sweet love. You need to know that you’re the only one I trust to do right, without question. Now you’d better go wrangle. And don’t forget to pick up after them before you go.”

“Oh, you stop it.”

“Never.”

“I’m coming back you know, after I’m done.” She called after River, as she headed to the door. “Maybe next time we should go back and do it in the Stormcage for old times’ sake. You know, I can look up the flight history now, and find out when it’s empty.” Hearing no response, she looked to see River looking at her, incredulously. “What?”

“How many thousands of years have you been flying her and you just now figured that out.”

“You know, talking is overrated.”

“So is sex in dungeons.”

And with a smile the Doctor headed out into the yard. “OK Team, let’s go!”

“Doctor, you were just gone, not even a note. Where are we, anyway?” Yaz was scowling as she made her way toward the TARDIS.

“Darillium.”

“Who is that?” Ryan asked, looking toward the house.

She turned around to see River with her arms crossed, leaning in the doorway. The Doctor launched her a wide grin and shouted, “THAT’S MY WIFE WHOM I ADORE TO THE END OF TIME!”

Graham smiled and waved; River waved back. “She looks happy, Doctor. I think ya done good.”

And holding the door open for him, she replied with a smile. “Yeah Graham, I done good. I try at least. Took a millennium.”

That alone gave the companions a good three days of fodder upon which to gossip. One of those companions might have been a little heartbroken, but that's life with a Time Lord. And of course no one knows this heartbreak more intimately than River. After the TARDIS door closed, she let her practiced façade fall, and the tears broke through. River knew she'd never see her again.


	6. There was a cat in a thing but someone maybe did a thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one took a hard M turn (enterndre intended) with some 12/River naughty shenanigans. So if you hate that, no worries. I'll summarize the important stuff in the beginning of the next chapter so you can skip it.

The TARDIS door creaked open, and as quietly as she could in her runners, she snuck up to the console and slipped them into his jacket. As she turned to leave she was stopped by a gasp from above.

“Jane!”

She searched the upper platform, and there, at the top of the stairs stood River, in a bath robe with wet hair and a look of surprise on her face. The Doctor was caught and beamed up to her with a grin.

“You’d better hurry, he’s around here somewhere,” River gave a sad smile.

And like a bolt the Doctor took the stairs up two at a time. Reaching the top, with two fistfuls of wet hair she planted a deep passionate kiss onto River’s waiting and smiling mouth. “Oh, I love you, so so much,” the Doctor breathed into her mouth, a split second before jumping the whole flight down and making it to the door, just to turn around for a last grin, and left.

“River!” His booming voice rolled her name from below. Startled, her eyes had been lingering on the door with nostalgia, after her personal magic fairie swooped in and out, mouth still tingling from the stolen kiss.

“Yes!”

“Did I hear you talking to someone?” He scowled, taking the stairs in one step to retrieve his jacket.

“I was just reciting a verse, Sweetie.”

“Hmm.”

She proceeded down the stairs, a book in arm, and stood on her toes to give him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I’m headed to bed. Good night dear.”

His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t just here?”

“Maybe just echoes from the matrix, dear.”

“Hmm.” She walked off as he folded the coat over his arm. Feeling a foreign object, he reached in the pocket and pulled out simple, indigo colored earth made reading glasses. TARDIS blue. He looked to the door, and then back to River, walking down the hall, consumed by terrycloth. A knowing smirk spread across his face.

He’d been meaning to broach the subject of her eyesight and aging in this, her last incarnation. He knew she took care of herself and tried to avoid it. He didn’t really care unless it was because of him. How very human of her, if so. Had they the life they should have, she could regenerate into any form male or female, and it would change little. Because she’d still flirt and drive him nuts and achieve impossible things, and he’s still be mad about her.

But there was really no reason for her to hide it. At least not to the point of it being an annoyance, unless it had something to do with him, he concluded. So, he silently thanked himself, and forgave the stolen kiss he could smell on her. He would have done it too, after all.

He entered the bedroom and went straight to the attached bathroom. At the sink he brushed his teeth, walked to the closet and changed into a fresh undershirt and pair of boxers. Emerging from the bathroom, he paused at the bedside, taking in the sight of his wife. She looked like a marshmallow, but comfortable. She had been, as he observed in their short time living together, hiding her farsightedness with squinting at the console. And here in bed with her book stretched an impossible distance from her face, still squinting.

He plopped down next to her. “Having trouble dear?”

“What do you mean?”

With a smirk and a flourish, he revealed the glasses.

“What are these.” She furrowed her brow.

“Some archeologist.”

She scoffed. “I don’t need those. My eyes just get tired that’s all.”

“Come on, at least try them.” He wagged the eyebrows, and of course she was defeated and snatched them. She ran her fingers over the frames and lenses, unfolding them and giving him a doubtful look.

She put them on and blinking a few times, held the book a normal distance from her face.

“So?”

She sheepishly looked over them, sideways at the Doctor, propped expectantly next to her. And he was 100% done.

“Sexy professor.” He’d lowered his voice an octave into gravelly Scottish.

“Seriously,” she scoffed.

He looked at her with the intensity of one with taste who sees exactly what they want. He wasn’t one to throw his thoughts, but he purposefully and wildly hit her with a fuck yes.

A smile spread across her face. He knew exactly how to get her to play along and he loved every second of it.

Although in this incarnation he’d been generally avoidant of physicality, it was like changing your own baby’s diapers. Ok that’s a rubbish comparison. Like cleaning up your own messes. Just the idea of it is abhorrent until it exists in a familiar context. And she’d been keen to it and sensitive throughout their first evening on Darillium, keeping a tight rein on her overly tactile nature. However, unbeknownst to her he spent the entire dinner formulating exactly what he was going to do to her later. When they retired to the TARDIS and he said time for bed, she shot him that excited quirky grin and all his plans for taking it slow went abandoned.

And tonight, weeks later they still hadn’t made love in a mood that wasn’t a product of them both being completely famished of a sustenance they never knew they needed. And you’d think, as old as he was, he’d realize what was happening as the love-induced norepiniephrine hit them consistently, but he was an idiot.

With a thud her forgotten book hit the floor as she turned to face him, propped up on an elbow. As she did his hand weaseled its way inside her robe and found a place along her side, his thumb sweeping her ribcage, knowing it would drive her mad.. “Well then,” she said, dripping provocation over the glasses. “while I have your attention, anything you’d like to learn?”

“Did you bother with a lesson plan.”

“Of course not. Open discussion,” she replied and he saw her eyes darken as his thumb’s sweeping crept to the underside of her breast.

“Very naughty professor. What will be on the exam?”

“Only new material,” she leaned in with a smile to gently bite below his ear, her hand clutching the grey waves at the base of his neck. Her other hand trailed past his hip and settled on the inside of his thigh, and she gently caressed so painfully close to where he needed her to be. It was his turn to be driven mad. He needed her, not teasing foreplay.

And he was completely serious about the glasses. He firmly grabbed her by the hips and pulled her toward him. And with the finesse of a seasoned couple she was astride him in one smooth motion, the warmth of their arousals the meeting of two opposing forces. Her pelvis settled into him, and even that subtle friction was the stuff of satisfaction. He continued, “how about a comparative study of Human and Time Lord anatomy.”

She looked down to him, her hair drying and wilding, her robe falling open and breasts just yelling to be touched. “It’s a shame we don’t have any humans present. Shall I go find one,” she said as she jokingly moved to get up.

His grip tightened on her hips and he ground her down on his cock. With a half-smile he growled a warning. “You go anywhere, and they’ll need to set up Stormcage because I’ll murder you, woman.”

“They’ll just put you next to me.”

“And watch you flirt and kiss me all the time? I’d murder me too. Double murder suicide.” And he adjusted their position, running his hands under the open robe and up the firm lines of her back. Without bothering to give it foreplay he took a breast in his mouth; he knew what he wanted.

“How scandalously Gallifreyan of you.” She gasped and arched into his mouth. “What will they say about us back home?”

“They couldn’t handle you back home,” he mumbled, feeling her cool hand as she searched below his waistband and sensitively caressed him. A nearly inaudible hiss escaped his mouth as she gently released him from the confines of his boxers.

“But you can.” And she lowered herself down the length of his hardness, eyes pooled with desire. No more coy games of past.

“I’ve grown up, sweetie.” And looking up at her he saw a relaxed intensity as she swiveled her hips around him, her face flushed, and when she opened her eyes and looked down to him, he saw almost painful adoration behind her eyes. The love in her for lifetimes.

He loved her in a position of control, when his past self would have been overwhelmed and flustered. How could he possibly question being alive, question being with her, if this existed? This was everything. 

He knew she was warm and swept the robe down her arms, kissing her shoulder, then her neck then her mouth as she took on a painfully slow rhythm he knew wouldn’t last. He could give two shits that he was still clothed. She released his mouth as her breaths became hitched, as she began making her way.

He watched her in wonder, how the burning bush must have looked to Moses. Intensity and energy existing and manifested from parts that should not equal the whole, but somehow do. He saw his own hand in slow disassociation, sweeping down the soft length of her arm, up her thigh, thumbing over her breast and causing her to whimper. He was nowhere near close and didn’t want to be. Coming was overrated, he decided, because he’d been missing this the whole time.

The building pressure he could feel wafting off her, her head turned so as not to be panting in his face. As he lifted from under her pelvis to help her keep pace, he could feel the muscles under the skin of her thigh rippling, her leg beginning to shake. His other hand braced so his hips could thrust up to meet her.

He wanted to see her. With a hand in her hair he possessively turned her head to face him, and in the sea of her eyes he saw, and in the galaxy of her mind he felt, always and completely. He recklessly pulled her to him, spoilers be damned, and glossing over the end he showed her the end of time, because he’s still madly in love, even then.

The glasses went flying and clutching the sides of his head her breaths became shallow as they did when she was so close. When she wasn’t faking or putting on a show she was quiet, and made but whimpers until climax hit. She shuddered as the waves hit her, keened as her back arched and with his thumb on her clit he braced her hip and kept the motion going, extending it for her.

Cheating with telepathy aside, he’d spent a lifetime considering himself an average lover at best. But 24 years like this was going to give him a God complex, he just knew it.

* * *

“And stop dying your hair.”

“Huh?” Her reply was muffled into his shirt, she’d been laying directly on top of him, post coitus Jell-O in humanoid form.

“I’ve known you do it for at least half a century. People will think I’m robbing the cradle.” He blew one of those locks out of his face.

“You are robbing the cradle.” She slurred.

“I don’t want to. Let’s get old together.”

She looked up, lazily searching his face and dropping back into his chest. “Okay.”

And he tightened his arm around her, his other hand smoothing her hair before he kissed the top of her head. She never had to do anything. But she would do anything he asked. Especially if the timing is right, and a satisfied reynard grin spread across his face.

So, the glasses ended up on the floor for the first time of infinity. She eventually didn’t need them, and getting tired of looking old(he assumed), she got fixed up. But she wasn’t fixed up, she looked closer to death. He didn’t even know it was close to the end but for a long time they made every goodbye like it was the last.

He found them under the bed years after she left to teach that semester. He dealt with the glasses like any article of her hoard he came across…he found the right place for them (He went through a phase where he tried discarding it all, but the TARDIS had none of that). For a long while the TARDIS’d been letting him find River’s Library now and then when she wasn’t there, and he placed them next to a book she’d left open. And as he turned around to leave, he silently prayed to a god, a god he was sure didn’t exist, that there was an afterlife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by "When We Dance" by Sting. I saw where it was going and needed some age appropriate mood music and BOOM.


	7. Tell me, Riv, what do you think will solve my problems?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in the previous chapter, 13 hides the reading glasses in 12's jacket. He finds them and convinces River to wear them and accept her body's deterioration, and that he wants to see her age.
> 
> During the convincing, River is mercilessly having her way with his Timelordhood and he might have kinda shown her the end of her life. Oops. He does not realize it.

“River. River. River. River. River. River.” With every repetition the Doctor bounced the hacky sack off her foot.

It was a breezy, artificially spring day and River was on one of the campus’ many sitting areas, legs crossed beneath her on a park bench underneath a huge live oak tree. And up until 10 minutes ago the only thing bothering her was a shed leaf or acorn.

“I said go away, Jane.” Failing to ignore her friend was paid for with the knit bean bag landing square in her book. She tried to hide the beginnings of a smile, the first in about a week. God, she was insistent at times. River chunked it back and almost nailed her in the head, but the Doctor dodged it, laughing.

“Come on, talk to me Riv. You know I know when you’re not right. I can see your feelings and you can’t hide it. I’ll just have to bother you forever.” And she picked up the ball with her foot and caught it in her hands.

River sighed and dropped the book she’d been pretending to read, defeated. Maybe talking will help, after all. She’d spent all week an emotional ping pong ball over her boyfriend/lover/betrothed Time Lord. It was complicated. And she absolutely hated it. And she had mid-terms coming up and she was going to fail miserably because of it. And although she thought the tears were cried out, she felt them welling again just thinking about what a jerk he was.

She fought them back well though. “Have you ever loved someone, and you just hate it because it doesn’t matter what they do or say, you love them anyway.”

The Doctor blinked. “No. Never. Please. Tell me what it’s like.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know,” she smiled. “So, you know I’m telepathic, like you are a little. And it’s hard for us. Because their mind says one thing but then they do the opposite because that’s how small brains, or young brains or stupid brains do.”

“Why can’t he just act like he feels.”

“Ya don’t have to tell me, but really, what did he do?”

She sighed, deciding if she even wanted to recant it. But seeing her friend so concerned, figured it would be mean to withhold. “Well we were going to celebrate a kind of anniversary day we met thing, and I went ahead to make reservations and buy a dress.”

“You mean steal a dress,” the Doctor goaded with a smirk. 

“Shut up, Jane, I’m serious. I saw him with a woman.”

“What?” All the levity the Doctor brought to the table was dropped like a lead weight.

“Not even a woman, she looked like a sodding teenager.”

She didn’t notice the Doctor listening with a dropped jaw, a deer in headlights. “Bloody hell.”

“I KNOW! It wouldn’t have been a big deal but…the way he had his hand on her back and he whispered something in her ear…I think he might have sensed I was there and was getting her to leave.”

The Doctor groaned and flopped down on the bench, leaning her head between her knees. “So of course, you followed them.” She grabbed the open bag of popcorn sitting next to River and started shoveling it in her mouth.

“Yeah to his ship. I knocked on the door, actually heard her ask who it was, he said NO ONE before he opened it. No one! Seriously, that’s what he said!” And tears started welling.

“AHHH No you fucking git,” she said and had gotten up, still shoveling popcorn, and started pacing. River was starting to break. “Oh no don’t you start to cry River. Don’t do it.”

River nodded and took a couple deep breaths. “So, he actually answered the door and was all flustered like he was doing something wrong and gave some shit excuse about spoilers and shut the door, actually locked me out.” River looked up to see the Doctor bent over, taking deep breaths, looking like she was going to lose her stomach. “Jane you look as upset as I was.”

“Is it possible to handle that worse?” The Doctor said under her breath.

“What?”

The Doctor looked up and met River’s eyes. “He’s out of his mind. If you exist and he’s not with you, he’s completely out of his mind.” She started pacing, compulsively eating popcorn and walking it off.

River frowned. “That’s so sweet, Jane.”

“It’s true.” She stopped and faced her, imploring. “Take a break from him, Riv. Shag a bunch of dudes. And chicks, whatever.”

“Is that all you think about? You tell me that every time.”

“It’s true. He doesn’t deserve you, drive him crazy.” She gave a bitter laugh. “And have some fun doing it.”

“I do love him though. And I know he loves me too. It’s awful. When we’re together it’s amazing most of the time, he gets upset I can’t show him my past. But no one wants to see that.”

“I know. You can’t let him see.”

River looked at her, puzzled.

“Uh, from what you said he’s a man-child. You know how I feel about it.”

“I do know. You don’t like him. It’s just beyond stupid. I don’t understand why he feels like he does if he’s going to run around the universe with other girlfriends. It just makes no sense. I know our timeline is mottled, but it can’t be just that. What about us isn’t enough?”

The Doctor gave a barely audible groan and sat down next to her, turning to face her. “Like I said, he’s completely out of his mind. And, not to make excuses, maybe he’s just afraid of how he feels. If he reacts like you told me…Ya know I don’t know much about doing love well. But I do know that love like that, you have to be ready for, because of what it does to you, what it can… make you do. Maybe he’s not ready for it yet. Go have fun, and even have fun with him when you want to. I…have a feeling he’s gonna do you right someday. But don’t be serious and cry over him, okay? He doesn’t deserve it, acting this way.”

And River smiled, a real smile, for the first time that afternoon. “Okay. I’m not sure I’ll even mention it, maybe it was innocent.”

It wasn’t, but the Doctor wouldn’t argue, obviously, and continued. “I hope talking helped a little, yeah?”

She raised and eyebrow. “Think I should start now, huh.”

“What?”

“Sleeping with people,” and gave Jane a seductive smile. She eyed her friend, with whom she shared a strong attraction, even love she knew went both ways. River was telepathic a little and although her friend was very guarded every now and then something slipped through.

“Uhh I….Uh. I probably should go, gotta go uh… study something.”

River laughed, her teasing having the intended affect. “Oh, shut up, I know you could teach about any physics class they offer. You’re a genius.” She stood up, taking the Doctor’s arm. “Since you won’t have me, you’re stuck taking me to the pub and we’re going to find a horny freshman.”

And for the Doctor, taking her chances sleeping with co-ed River definitely sounded like the better idea of the two. But River said not to in capitals on the list and this Doctor was a very, very good girl.

Later that evening, she sent River off with a strapping young member of the Water Polo team. Lucky boy. Or not so lucky. She was in a mood and would probably blow his mind. Surprisingly, the Doctor wasn’t really jealous. In the end the only real competition for River would be herself any way.

Since their strange discourse on Darillium, she had a nagging feeling something was not right. River was talking like she knew they might not meet again, and she wasn’t supposed to know that was a possibility. Rule number one. The Doctor is the absolute last person the Doctor trusted. But she hadn’t dwelt on it, being distracted by the importance of the quest; every item was hugely important, some even bringing back memories of when they happened. The next one was probably the most important: Stormcage, and she reveals her identity. She’d been looking forward to it but now not so much. She’d spent most of their interactions on damage control, and the last thing she wanted to do was create conflict.

Besides, she had her own River waiting back in the TARDIS. A later version and The Doctor was hesitant to see her go. And upon returning, that River was still buried beneath the console, looking a little more charred than when she’d left a few hours ago.

“Still at it, love?”

River’s head popped up from behind the console, her hair partially escaped and frazzled. “What on earth did you do under here? It looks like you took a blow torch to her.”

The Doctor hopped up on the platform and leaned against the console “Mmm might have?”

“Well taking it out on her won’t solve your problems, sweetie. The poor girl.”

“Tell me Riv, what do you think’ll solve my problems?”

She looked up with a mischievous half smile “Spoilers. Oh and don’t forget the key. I’m pretty sure that was your doing?”

“Oh, yeah,” the Doctor replied, and she turned to set the Tardis to River’s apartment to leave a key in the diary. It would be the last time that jackass could lock her out.

And although it would be the last time River would see Clara, she’d never really forget it. Well, it was probably the last time she saw her, since things like that burn into you like a brand. And she only told me about that one time. So it will be assumed after that day it was pushed behind her...until she saw him noticing her getting older, her ageless god who insisted on the face of that 12 year old. Never let him see you age. That’s tough for someone creeping up on 200 years old. And a lot of unnecessary drama for someone creeping up on 200 years old. That in addition to the constant undercurrent of neediness and mistrust between them, she resolved that her heart would be broken for the last time, at her own hand.

So, after transcribing the terrible novel she decided that if he truly loved her, he’d suck up what the universe handed them and come find her. After all, always and completely is supposed to include laugh lines and goodbye. He never did come find her.

But like the books, and the glasses, their fate really has no beginning or end. She left because he seemingly moved on to someone else, and he moved on to someone else because he’s seemingly a rubbish husband whose wife left. He instigates her demise anyway, so it's a win-win, really.

The tragedy remains that it never would have happened had they lived the life they were destined. But what is life if it doesn’t last very long, because very existence is at stake? So it’s probably best that things ended up as they did, in roundabout way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter brought to you by "The guy that says goodbye to you is out of his mind" By Griffin House


	8. Back to business as usual in Stormcage

Oh my God, River thought, and finally got it. “And that’s why you were always there.”

The Doctor just smiled as does someone with so many secrets. She moved to face River, reaching a small hand up to gently wipe a tear. River leaned imperceptively into her touch, took the Doctor’s hand and looked at it, studying it anew. Fluted bones, short bitten nails and worried cuticles. Insurmountable power transformed into such a delicate form. From that day forward, River never doubted the Doctor was most beautiful creature in the universe, if only because of the possibilities. “This is so strange,” River said mostly to herself.

“I know. You’ll get used to it. I did. I love me.” The Doctor smiled, hopeful.

“I’ll never not love you.” It was the declaration, words symbolizing a borne cross.

“Well that’s a place to start.”

River shook her head, dropping the Doctor’s hand. “For you maybe. I won’t be here waiting in prison, you being terrible while expecting to sleep with me.” The knock down drag out she just had with her ex-best-friend-now-I-suppose wife was fresh. She hardly shared a cross word with her friend in the years they knew each other. And suddenly she’s the Doctor now and River almost murdered her. Typical. She needed space, not some fucked up school reunion. River picked up her bag to take across to the bed to finish packing.

The Doctor stopped her motion with a hand on her arm. “River, listen to me. I was terrified.”

River turned to face her. “Of what, commitment? You were definitely committed to getting some this evening.”

“You were too good to be true.” River was caught off guard again and looked away. But the Doctor was, as always, unrelenting. She took River’s face in her hands, imploring her to understand. “I tried so hard, from the day I met you. I tried so hard to not love you and failed awfully. We’re written in the stars and I’m gonna spend millenniums regretting that I doubted it for even a second.” She stood on her toes and gently sealed her truth with a kiss. But as the laws of chemistry and physiology tend to do, they never really change. And their mouths molded to find a place in each other.

River had been in complete awe a few times in her life, and this was honored to be one. “It’s you,” she whispered into the Doctor’s mouth and outlined her jaw with a thumb.

“How bout you and me run a little?” The Doctor looked up at her with shining eyes and a grin, beyond giving any more fucks. Having known River from beginning to end, and now in between from her recent meddling, this wasn’t even close to River at her healthiest. It’d been a long time since the Doctor was faced with the threat of murder, for one--the fact that their earlier conversation minutes ago was normal discourse for them was pretty fucked. And she didn’t use naughty words liberally, but that was the only way to describe it. River at Darillium was how she was remembered, and they were so, so happy and the past was behind them. Even the young River she was getting to know on Luna was dramatic and angsty but not particularly toxic. Here their past was being dug up and fired like emotional mortars.

“Doctor?” They were interrupted by a voice outside the cell.

They turned to the young guard and replied simultaneously. “Yes?” Of course, breaking out in stupid giggles. The Doctor possessively took River’s arm and draped it over her own shoulder and addressed him.

“I’m the Doctor, what is it? Better be important.” River stood beside her with a smug grin, barley containing her laughter at the guard’s deadpan reaction to the cell stuffed with the TARDIS and some new person. He’d been working that block for a while.

“Doctor Song. Got mail for you.” He took a few steps closer and held out the envelope, being cautious not to make himself vulnerable.

“Interesting.” Reaching through the bars, she retrieved it and returned to the Doctor who looked on as she opened it. “Your assistance is formally requested by Father Octavian of the Clerics of the Palpal Mainframe in their launch of a formal investigation into the crash of the Galaxy class Starliner Byzantium.” They shared a look, and the Doctor shrugged her shoulders with a grin. Looks like stealing River would be for another day. But that’s okay, as long as she’s getting out of there. “Your cooperation in this matter is of utmost importance and upon other mutually discussed criteria and completion of said investigation you will be granted….” River gasped and looked up.

“Just in time huh,” the Doctor beamed.

“Oh, holy hell!” The guard exclaimed, looking over their shoulder. They followed his eyeline behind them to see the forgotten arsenal on the wall and started giggling again. “Where does this stuff even come from! I have to tell the warden about this, and I’ll probably lose my job. So, thanks.”

River smiled and held up the letter. “Doesn’t matter, I’ve got a pardon.”

“Whatever.” And he stormed off.

Her eyes followed him. “It says I’m to attend a command meeting this afternoon. Must be important with such short notice.”

The doctor went to the bed and sitting, leaned back on her hands. “Well don’t worry about your books, like I said. We come and get them, you put them in the library.”

River dropped the letter on the bed next to the Doctor and proceeded to the wall, removing the weapons and other contraband. “So the firsts and lasts really was a lie,” she said over her shoulder as she dumped out her duffel bag and began refilling it.

“No, not really. It’s something you told me early on. I didn’t take it seriously or understand what it meant to us. But I really did think it was true until I realized it wasn’t, not completely. Well, I guess it was true for poor bow tie. Your first time his last. Well once after that. But that was because he ran. I ran. After what happened the first day we met on Luna. I wasn’t ready to love you without it causing complete destruction. How could I?”

She nodded, that day burned in her memory. Baptism by fire. “I was ready to love you so blindly that day.” Hefting the full bag, she kicked open the Tardis door and swung it inside.

“And you’ve done a good job keeping him in check,” the Doctor continued. “You’ll see him again, and in synchrony, soon. I don’t know how you feel, but I have an idea. Be kind to him. I know you doubt it, but he loves you. But still don’t show him, you’ll know when it’s time.”

“So you know? You never said when you are.” River asked as she sat on the bed next to the Doctor.

“I’m far enough, I know. I’ve seen everything.” She took River’s hand and gave it a gentile kiss. “But you can never let him see. If he finds out before that day, we might have ourselves an alternate timeline.”

“It hurts. I feel like he can’t know me completely. I feel like he can’t… without knowing what what happened to me, what I’ve done.” Her brow furrowed, the emotion surfacing.

The Doctor took her face in her hand. “River, how many times do I have to tell you that you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You’ve never told me that, you know? Obviously, you’ll have to repeat it,” she said with a sad smile.

“As many times as you need to hear.”

Of course, it was at that point they were interrupted by the alarm bells. They both looked down the hall to see red flashing lights and met each other with matching grins.

“Looks like I’m in trouble.”

“When are you not in trouble, Riv.” The Doctor smiled and got up. “Gotta go.”

River stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I would have come with you and I still want to. Promise me.” River rose and took her hands. “Promise me you’ll meet me on Luna, after I get out . Under our tree. I’ll be there every day after lunch until you come, waiting on that ridiculous moon forever so you have to promise.” River sweetly kissed her cheek.

The Doctor was taken aback by how suddenly River became the girl she’d gotten to know on Luna. Going from vengeful, murderous assassin to hopeful, fresh faced child. She swallowed down the self-loathing that had been surfacing by the discovery of this side of River. All the Doctor had done is just listened to her and empathized and mediated without emotional accountability. Or physical accountability, as was always a risk with River when she was cross. Why couldn’t he have got out of his head for 5 seconds to see what was in front of his bloody face?

The Doctor searched her eyes and behind hope, she saw the fatigue to which River was surely on the verge of surrender. “Here. I’ll promise to come find you if you promise to get some rest before that meeting. You’re gonna need it.”

She smiled and followed as the Doctor went to open the TARDIS door. “Jane, can you be a dear and toss my bag into the storage room?”

The Doctor assumed most contents of that small airplane hangar of a storage room was stolen property, or at best acquired under some subject’s duress. Had it not been the only TARDIS in the accessible universe, it would undoubtedly be the hottest. The Doctor drew the line at her ship being a weapons cache too. “Ya mean toss it in the nearest supernova? Absolutely, Riv.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“With every fiber of my being I would. Oh, and try to remember when you saw me? It’s a thing, you start keeping a log of when we meet. Now get you here.” And the Doctor pulled River to her, and mentally communicated unity, hope and strength. Hearing commotion in the hall she gave a last smile and left, like a swallow, swooping in and then out like it was nothing. But changing everything.

And for the first time since that day she met the Doctor on Luna, River saw in her mind the indescribable color of them she long lost hope of seeing again. With a lighthearted sigh and a smile, she watched the SWAT team arrive at her cell in full riot gear. Back to business as usual in the Stormcage.


	9. There's a lot to unpack here....

One evening, his ship landed him very early. The earliest. It was the last.

Some nights, every few decades or so after River left him, and he gladly left her, his TARDIS would punish him further. It happened most times when he was travelling without Clara. It was always her, young. Younger and younger. He’d know the TARDIS’d taken him to Luna and tried not leaving the ship. But eventually a soft knock would come, and if he didn’t answer the door would open by itself under the tentative wrapping. Sometimes she’d fall into his arms and kiss him soundly (and they wouldn’t make it out of the console room), sometimes she’d look up at him with the adoration of true love (although she kept other lovers consistently). Sometimes she’d just stand there, her hip popped against the doorframe with that smile and wait to see what he’d do. He’d hide the emotion, because his hearts would be exploding, and how do you explain that to a teenage loomling who is pawing you like one of her other toys?

Having long since learned to accept fate, he opened the door. And there was River. Sitting on her Indian blanket. Even though that was the wrong thing to call it, when she visited the Anasazi’s cliffs, the man who made it called himself an Indian so out of respect she did too. She was honest that way. They were in the stargazing field and it was dusk. “Hey” she looked up and back down to her book.

“Hey,” he replied. This was…relaxed he thought. She scooted over, an invitation for him to sit. And he did, stretching his legs before him.

“I was wondering when I’d see you.”

“You haven’t seen me? Has it been long? When was the last time?”

“Not since the hospital.”

“Ah.” This was it. He was conflicted. Sad because it was the end, but relieved because…his responsibility to her future was nearly over. “I hate hospitals. Hospitals are rubbish. And too clean. Only go when absolutely necessary. How are you feeling?”

She gave a sideways smile “Oh just fine. I’ve been here 6 months. I love it here. People are nice, I’m making friends, finally teachers who understand how I learn.”

“Who understand that they’re completely unnecessary.”

She gave a sideways grin and touched the side of her nose twice.

“Lots of boyfriends I’m sure.”

She seemed confused. “Why would I want boyfriends?” She cracked a smile.

“Well, because you’re…you and that’s what you do.”

She smiled and shook her head no. “No, not really. I’ve had enough boyfriends. Besides,” she raised an eyebrow, “It makes no sense that you’d like that.” And she looked back down to her book.

Okay, now he was confused. Is this the same River he was with the last time he was here? Had some alien being invaded her body? How could he covertly sonic her and find out? He nervously adjusted his bow tie and trudged on, lightly. “Wh…why would you think I don’t want you to have boyfriends? We have a future together, but I certainly don’t want you to think--”

“I saw into your mind. Didn’t mean to, but it was hard to miss,” she was miserably failing to suppress her smile.

Holy shit. “River, what exactly did you see?”

She looked up and searched his eyes. Then she dog-eared her book and closed it, tossing it off to the side and leaned back against her hands. “Doctor, how old do you think I am?”

He nervously scratched his head. “I guess I never asked…”

“40 years old. I’ve had boyfriends. And I’ve had my first love, my second and third. Now I think my last.”

He was a deer in headlights.

“I know I’m not human. And I know humans tend to mate for their short lives, or at least portions of such. But we mate for millennia. And you told me you loved River, loved me, always and completely. And then I felt in you love that can span lifetimes, and I think I can feel it in me too.”

“River, why are you telling me this now?”

“Well why not? Is it some secret? I saw it in your bloody mind.”

“No why are you telling me this now?”

“Because we’re talking about it now. You know you’re quite odd.”

“No, you act completely different. You’re flirty with boyfriends in front of me constantly… the entire time I’ve known you. Hey you made me think I was your first!”

That received a full-on laugh from River. She suppressed it with a tight-lipped sly smile. He wanted to kiss it right off her face.

“No that’s not funny! I was so slow and careful.”

She gave a seductive smile. “I’m sure it will be wonderful.”

He humpfed. “It always is, on my end. You know our body temperature is lower than humans? Makes us more susceptible to freezing. Also makes closeness and sleeping with warm bloods very uncomfortable. I’m sure you noticed.”

“Yes. I’ve known that for a while.”

“See we live back to front. Your firsts are my lasts. More or less.”

She frowned. “Yes. That’s very sad, I think.”

“Yes it is.”

“I haven’t seen you since we met, besides in the hospital.” She met his gaze, her olive eyes illuminated by the artificial dusk was something he realized he’d never see again.

“I know.” He said, and became very interested in the blanket, picking a piece of wool fuzz and flicking it onto the grass. They’d never gone to New Mexico and the blanket was old, and his mind raced wondering how she got it. Faced with the physical evidence of a long past before him, River yet again had his axis starting to shift. Just like old times.

The non-productive trajectory of his thoughts was interrupted when he felt a feather light kiss on the side of his mouth, and a cool hand on his cheek. He was then blindsided with the color of her, the warmth of her comfort as she leaned her head against his. With a gasp, he pulled back. “River, what are you doing?”

“I just felt like it was the right thing to do. You’re sad.”

He was seriously confused. What the hell was going on? River, the entire time he’d known her avoided telepathic communication with him. At all costs. It had been a significant issue. Being seriously married to someone who refused made him feel like a massive cuck, in a manner of speaking. His siblings would have shamed him to no end. For sure it wasn’t just spoilers, she could control her mind well enough to completely shut him out, even get a good slap in and that says a lot.

He decided with the good old-fashioned go-with-it approach.

“Is it wrong? I don’t usually do it but it came so easily with you. It really freaks people out most of the time.”

“Well you, uh,” he nervously shifted and sat up, “really should ask first, unless you know the person. It can be startling. And focus on what you want me to feel, and know, or else I’ll see everything.”

She smiled sweetly and rubbed her hands, preparing to have a go. As she communicated a simple greeting of comfort and togetherness, his brain was hit with a cocktail of her violet color. He reciprocated with gratitude, and immediately felt at ease, despite the situation putting him on the defensive. He pulled away to see a silly, excited grin on her face that threatened to rip his insides to shreds.

And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, she kissed him. And it was a good one.

Her mouth was tentative at first, but then deepening as her tongue naturally, playfully swept his top lip. He could feel her smiling, and he smiled too as their mouths fell into their familiar play. She was wildly throwing her emotions and the flutter of new love she felt almost did him in. Why couldn’t they fall into a time loop and it be this? When they finally pulled apart, River’s innocence was gone and he saw his insufferable thief for the first time that evening. He couldn’t help but crack a smile because she already had what she no doubt was thinking of stealing.

She gasped with a smile. “Oh, the library.”

“What?” His face dropped and his mind began racing in its processes to ascertain if she accessed that very very bad memory. “What library.”

“When I was on the TARDIS I think she told me she had a library for me? I love books, and things. I’ve never gotten to keep anything ever, as long as I can remember. But she said I had a place in her.”

“Ah of course,” He smiled to himself. “I think I know it.” He rose and nodded behind them to the TARDIS. “There’s already a library but I think that one’s different. You want to go in and maybe we can find it? I don’t think you’ve fully seen the TARDIS. How about a tour?” He held his hand to her, she looked up at him with the sweetest, wide eyed curiosity. With her escaped curls rebelliously blowing in the breeze about her face, his hearts swelled, because he’d been waiting. He took his first trip to earth because of the library, he began to fall in love with humans in that room. He didn’t realize he would also fall in love with the person responsible for it. He was seriously debating on stealing her then and there.

As they passed the console, she stopped and caressed it, running her hands over the controls. He told her what they were and what they did, and when he made one up she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What”

“She told me that’s wrong.” She smiled.

“Oh, well that one is a point of disagreement. Moving on. And underneath is for maintenance, it’s a great place for napping and clearing your head, and the core is beneath that. That’s her heart.”

He took her by the hand and they ran about the TARDIS, having a good time. With every passing second his mind came alive as he forgot Trenzalore and his fate, a future that had no hope of touching him here, River with him in hand.

He showed her his bedroom but didn’t say it was theirs. But he didn’t even think she had her own. More recently, before they even slept together, he’d find her crashed in it. It would take her a while to get used to discovering her own undergarments she hadn’t yet acquired. Had he not known it was the truth he’d have thought he was full of shit too, but as her wardrobe started containing duplicates she began believing him.

They went to the library, and it didn’t have a pool, just like in the old days, before River. She ran her hands over the books and explored. “I love it, but I don’t think it’s the right one.” He knew she’d say that and took her hand with a grin, dragging her back into the hall. A door cracked as soon as they walked by, and he motioned her to enter before him.

He followed her into that majestic space, its two stories of mahogany shelves that circumvented the room completely empty. The spaces on the walls where the paintings had been, the display cases sitting empty. The overstuffed maroon leather chairs and solid wood tables. She walked to the middle of the room and turned around and looked at him with wonder. “It’s exactly as I imagined.” She hesitated, but then walked to him and embraced him. “Thank you.”

With a tight lipped smile he wrapped his arms around her, and spoke softly into her hair. “You don’t thank me for anything, I owe you everything, you already know that.” There was no way he could explain or express how her actions had affected the direction of everything. But he was still too young to understand that the future is the past and the past is the future, it just depends on where you are, and your role in it. She pulled away and as he watched her walk to a table and run her hands over the delicately carved corner, the undercurrent of his subconscious weighed the risks, consequences and benefits of his seriously materializing plan to take her and run. Take her before this innocence he was seeing was gone, by whoever was at fault.

“I’m sorry you know.”

He was brought out of his thoughts. “For what?”

“For stealing the TARDIS and trying to murder you.”

He laughed, covering his mouth, and looking at her fondly.

“What? It’s not funny. It’s absolutely terrible. The way you feel about me and how nice you are, it is tragic that I did that.”

He sobered a little when he realized she was serious about her apology. And then he realized that in all the years since that day in Berlin, he didn’t consider that they never really talked about it. “You want to know a secret?” he replied. “I stole a TARDIS once too.” Of course, he was smiling at his own joke. 

River blinked and then beamed a smile across the table. “She said it was her.”

“You know, although that may be true in this instance, I wouldn’t hold much weight to whatever she tells you.” His mind instantaneously shuffled through the possibilities of what the TARDIS could possibly tell her. “Whatever she tells you. Always ask me for confirmation. It’s very important.” He nervously cleared his throat.

“Yes, of course. But really, I’m sorry, Doctor. It was like I was looking at someone else, but it was me. I don’t think I’d do it again.”

He couldn’t suppress a chuckle, because she would. But her unbelievable resolve would foil them once again. “River, you are forgiven, as always, completely. Besides, you made it right. I…don’t think you realize what you sacrificed. Virtual immortality. But honestly once you get to 3000 years old I’ve heard living looses its magic.” He smiled nervously, attempting to remain lighthearted but what he said came out without the intended affect.

She frowned and nodded.

It was then that a question from below his consciousness surfaced. He didn’t exactly know why it came out, because it wasn’t something he’d ever thought about. But it did, and he asked. “River, one question, if you’re 40, When did you regenerate? You grew up one with Amy and Rory, yes?”

“Eight, seven, twenty two, and well, me. I think there was one before that, but I didn’t realize it was until the first one I remember, because I'd felt it before. ”

He audibly gasped.

“What?”

“Oh River. Four? How do you know, who told you that?”

She nodded with a sad smile. “I remember them. Well not the first one. But it was something about keeping me small for the spacesuit. They thought I wouldn’t be able to escape it. Idiots. But then they…took me again. But we showed them, huh?” She somehow grinned.

“You were a baby. They made you regenrate before you could remember. And at eight, and seven.” Swirls of the developing tempest pushed to the wayside his newfound discovery of this River, dewey and new. All he could think about was her, a baby Timelord being forced to regenerate. And the people who did it still existing. And the fact that they weren’t done with his wife and would take her again.

She noticed his abrupt change in mood and looked over to him. “It’s okay, it hurt but I’m fine. And that’s in the past. I don’t have as many nightmares as I used to. I don’t remember a lot.” She forced a chuckle. “I think it’s for the best if I just leave it well enough alone, don’t you think?” And he saw that smile he hated, the one when she was pretending like a problem didn’t exist.

“They made you regenerate as a baby. They tested you to see what would happen, and made you regenerate. Before they decided to use you.” He was unaware of the pain as his nails dug into his hand beneath a white knuckled grip.

Now she did that forced laugh he hated. “I don’t know, I told you I don’t like to think about it.”

He turned and left her standing in her library as his mind raced in multi layered processes, his overstretched strides taking him in the direction of the console room.


	10. There's a lot to unpack here... maybe we should just blow up the whole planet instead

She hardly knew him but in their short time together that day she picked up on his mood swings. She also realized that she should probably find some way to put his sonic screwdriver back. His statement about her being forgiven completely made her feel a little guilty about stealing it and seeing him anger so fast, it was probably good idea to slip it back in his jacket.

After he abruptly left, her own mind raced about what he knew that she didn’t. It was over, right? He was acting like these people were still an issue, and they lived back to front. She shook her head trying to wrap her mind around everything.

She was torn, half of her wanting to leave him alone and avoid whatever drama this was with the Doctor whom she just met. The other half was curious as to where this would go. Sweet revenge upon the Silents sounded like a nice way to end the evening but it seemed a bit risky even to her novice senses, regarding keeping timelines intact. She caught up to him and was clipping along behind him trying to keep pace.

“Really, it’s fine, we don’t have to do this Doctor!”

“If Gallifrey was here I’d be imprisoned for not going back and burning them, River. No one does this to our children and survives.” He kept his pace, looking ahead.

“What’s Gallifrey?”

He stopped abruptly and looked at her with a frustrated sigh. “It’s where I come from. You’re a hybrid of human and Gallifreyan DNA. Or some of the mutations that make Gallifreyean DNA different from humans. You are a living missing link. The council’d protect you no doubt, but who knows what they’d do with you. Thank goodness they’re not around for us to find out.”

“Wow.”

He continued walking. “How has no one ever told you this.”

“Who the hell was going to tell me this besides you?” He was a frustrating person for someone so intelligent.

“Good point. Where was the last place they kept you?”

“I don’t remember! I don’t remember most of it!” She stumbled over her runners and almost tripped. And collecting herself, she watched, overwhelmed, as he marched on, unwavering.

Meeting him up at the console she saw his eyes hovered in concentration, typing something into the controls with lightning fast speed. She could see his mind working with frightening intensity, not sure she could stop him, but not sure she really wanted to, honestly. She’d have gone and wiped them all out too, but she would never pull it off, mostly because she really wouldn’t know where to start. So she’d just done the best she could with letting it go. But maybe she didn’t have to let it go now.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking historical records and known fixed points, and cross checking it all with coordinates the TARDIS will allow.”

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Isn’t that cheating?”

He threw her a dark, mischievous grin. “River, since the day we met you’ve had me either planning to, or actively breaking by own rules.” He was reading the monitor, becoming more frustrated. “This might be impossible without seriously altering our timelines.”

After a few moments of inputting something he pulled back and violently hit the console. “Why does this never work!” He began wildly mashing buttons on the keyboard in frustration. “Why must you do this to me every time. Stupid, malfunctioning, faulty excuse for a TARDIS.” He yelled at the ceiling. “Should have taken the other one!”

“She didn’t like that.” River interjected. He shot her a glare. “It’s true, she’s a little hurt. I would be too, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say.” His eyes settled on her and narrowed . “What?”

He abruptly approached her, and she leaned back upon his approach but stood her ground. She could definitely take him if it came down to it. But she trusted his intentions toward her were good, despite his mood and outbursts. “Let me see,” he asked. More commanded.

She didn’t really like that. “See what?”

He let out a tense sigh. “Ugh, into your mind. They left the Gamma Forests and should be somewhere. They have to be somewhere. It’ll only take a few seconds.”

She looked at him questioningly. Whatever it took to avoid another tantrum. “I suppose there’s no harm in finding out, just so we know.”

It was brief. As he placed his hands on the sides of her head, she could feel him in her mind. But she instinctively knew to be polite and kept her thoughts still for him. Then suddenly he was gone, she guessed he was somewhere in a memory she couldn’t access. But she’d never forget the way he was looking at her after he removed his hands. It was a look of complete horror.

“What is it, Doctor, tell me.”

He just looked at her.

“Doctor, it’s something important. Tell me.”

And with dangerously calm energy he turned and resumed working at the console. “I suppose if they can rationalize kidnapping Amy, kidnapping you, murdering me, murdering you as a baby, letting you die repeatedly… then nothing else is much of a stretch, now is it?”

“I suppose I don’t want to know.” Half of her nightmares were her doing terrible things to people in a virtual war zone, so it made sense. She felt horrible and dirty and guilty and didn’t really know why specifically.

“Don’t,” he said with his back turned, responding to her unvoiced statement. “You might as well just forget it, since you already have. At least they gave you that.”

He on the other hand, didn’t have the luxury of forgetting what he just saw in her mind. River was getting more and more on the same page about ending these assholes.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea but if you really insist, Doctor, I’ll enjoy a front row seat. Bunch of absolute psychos. Religion on the whole is a bit rubbish if you ask me. So many people die over it, such a stupid waste.” She was starting to become interested in the endless possibilities, having a time machine. “After that can we go back and finish up with Hitler? I was so disappointed about that when I woke up in the hospital.”

He half smiled through a dark forelock as he was working. “You know, might as well go to the beginning and destroy Trenzalore. One way to prove a prophecy wrong, eh? Tasha will be so mad.” He followed his statement with a bitter chuckle. “Hell, might as well go do Darillium while we’re at it. I’ve considered it countless times. Really, what’s the worst that could happen? Probably just end up with two memories. It’s interesting, how that kind of thing works.”

She was captivated, and had no idea what he was talking about but needed to know more. She got up and leaned over the console, and head in hand looked at him in wonder. “Are those planets? We can destroy whole worlds? How?”

“Oh unbelievably simple. Land the TARDIS in the core and just the displacement creates enough instability to alter the entire ecosystem, over time. It’s a slow death. Now, if you want it quicker just program an atmosphere bubble and throw out a glass of water, a bucket if you’re adventurous, and when you take off you just created a planet-sized hydrogen bomb. It’s spectacular really. I remember when my father taught me how.”

She walked around the console to look at the monitor and took his arm. “Amazing that it’s so easy.” She looked up at him. “Let’s go try it. What are those planets you mentioned? Can we go back early enough so that no one is on them yet? I think that would be best.”

He chuckled, “Yeah that would be best.” He looked down at her and met the innocent, excited gaze of his wife, her other hand on the lever ready to take them off on his cue. Already working in unison. Already a team. A team of intergalactic domination and destruction of any and all not right in the universe, in their collective opinion.

What can only be described as some sort of divine intervention made his eyes settle on River. Or maybe it was just the fact that River wasn’t questioning his every move as usual. But as he looked at his wife, somewhere in his mind the dichotomy of her innocence and their present discourse about destroying worlds and committing genocide made him pause. He paused just long enough to realize what the fuck he was doing.

“Hey, is everything allright? We don’t have to do this. We could go to dinner instead. I’m absolutely starving. As long as we pick up where we left off outside at some point. I’d like to revisit that.” She smiled at him seductively.

He just blinked and stared at her. Talking about going to dinner instead of destroying their timelines and genocide.

His stomach was a lead ball, looking up he saw on the monitor he’d input coordinates for Darillium. How much irony drips from him altering her timeline by taking her to Darillium for their first date just to completely annihilate it? He would have laughed had he not felt like he was going to throw up.

“Hey,” she shook his arm. “You look like you’re going to be sick. Do you need to sit down?”

He glanced at her sideways and tensely swallowed. “I’m sorry.” Were his only words as he used the backspace to delete the coordinates and left her side to sit on the jump seat. He leaned on his elbows, head bowed.

River remained by the monitor, and leaned against the console, watching him. She had no idea what to say, but she instinctively knew why he was sad. She was keen and knew they were about to do something that would have had serious consequences, although she didn’t yet know what they were. The Doctor didn’t even know. He would have sealed imminent death for them both, especially destroying Trenzalore.

When she saw a single tear fall, her heart broke a little, for this strange tortured soul she hardly knew, but somehow already began to love. Wordlessly, she went to him and tentatively sat on the seat beside him, on her leg to give her height. She wrapped her arm around him, stroking his back. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s my past, they did it to me. So, maybe I should be the one to have the say in how we handle it.”

And that should have been the end of it, because River was absolutely right. But rule number one was held to hard and fast, and the Doctor couldn’t be trusted to stop himself again if faced with the reality of her insurmountable suffering as a child. And the suffering of the subjects used in her training, all costs paid on his account. He also couldn’t trust River to stop him every time either, much less ‘handle it’ appropriately. They were too much the same.

“River, I can never be at this branch again. In my past I would have gone through with it, I’m sure I would. I don’t think you understand what we almost did. You have to promise me.” He looked up to her with a sniff and a tight-lipped frown. “Never tell me. Never let me see. Never let me close to seeing. And I’ll try, and be angry, and never trust you. But everything depends on it.”

He was mentally throwing the importance of her acquiescence. “Yes, my love.” And she gently kissed his temple and did as told, and it would break both their hearts.

So, that was the conclusion of her first TARDIS piloting lesson from the Doctor. She’d never, ever forget it because the more she lived and became River Song, and better she knew the Doctor, the more that lesson meant. And as he taught her about the fragility of time and the far-reaching effects of alteration, the more steadfast she became with her promise. Between them, it took less than a half hour to lay out a plan that could have destroyed the universe, or at best changed existence as we know it. That’s a huge responsibility for a young Timelordish person but no one could have handled it like River. And she did exactly as she was supposed to even though he gave her hell for it.

As with the curse of firsts and lasts, he couldn’t really express his guilt about saddling her with this on their first evening. He also had a huge amount of guilt for how awfully he treated her in the early days before he _loved her_ loved her. And then there was the brand-new guilt about how awful he was over her denying telepathic sharing--now that he knew he asked her to do it in the first place. On top of that was the fact that every time he met her they could end up on Darillium and she would die next. When you think about it, the poor sod really had a full suitcase to unpack.

But he did what he could in the moment. He leaned in and he showed her the love she saw that day in Berlin. It was laced with gratitude, thanks and a plea for forgiveness. And something else.

She gasped and pulled away. “Wife?”

“Oh, you weren’t supposed to see that,” he said embarrassingly with the beginnings of a light lipped grin.

She looked over him with a worried expression. Silence be damned. Loving the Doctor was going to be the hardest thing she’ll ever survive.


	11. Rule number one, has River Song done.

It was the end of the list, and the Doctor was conflicted. She knew what she had to do, and unfortunately this last task didn’t involve seeing River, like many of the others. Not like she could really say goodbye any way. With all suspicion aside, she now understood why River started with goodbye those months ago on Darillium. There was no way of knowing when, or if they would ever meet again in synchrony. Firsts and Lasts, as always.

Opening the library door allowed light from the hall to spill over the glasses on the end table. The Doctor remembered the first, and the last time she’d seen them, and with the comforting smell of old leather, paper and ink, she was now beckoned by the familiarity of life with River. When she was last in River’s library to get the DSM XXIV she rushed, flooded by memories. With her senses now acclimated to the feelings of nostalgia she’d avoided she was more prepared for those thoughts to come back.

She pulled the chain on a desk lamp as she passed and slowly picked up the glasses, the tactile contact causing the memories of their life on Derilium to become more vivid than ever. Maybe she should have made River stay old, the Doctor thought with a smile; just the idea of trying to make River do anything was amusing. The most secure prison that would exist in the known universe couldn’t hold her. Cleaning the fingerprints in the lining of her coat, she turned to go.

But she was halted.

She’d only made a few steps before a layer of her processes was forced to the surface and she tried to grasp what she’d seen for a split second. One oversized step covered the distance back to the book she’d set the glasses beside so long ago. “Practical and Theoretical Applications of Neural Data Acquisition.”

Neural data.

Acquisition.

The Doctor gasped. “No…Oh Riv, what were you doing??” She could scarcely breathe.

Finally, River’s lifelong, irrational obsession with hoarding tactile data was biting her in the ass. Not to mention that she never put anything away. Hurriedly the Doctor ran around the Library, turning on lights here and there and looking at the last books she had out. “Oh, you absolutely insane, brilliant woman.”

The Lux Empire, History of Early American Industrial Capitalism and Business, The Construction and Implementation of Long-Range Teleportation Drivers.

And out of the corner of her eye she perceived an open door, a door she never knew to exist. A soft light within had been left on, beckoning. She briskly walked over but upon arriving, tentatively pushed the door open to see a workbench with a fluorescent lamp suspended above it. Her old sonic screwdrivers in different states of disassembly. Neural relay receivers, some broken and some intact.

The Doctor barged in and started wildly going through everything. Papers went flying as she identified the schematics for the library power core and mainframe. She gasped when she found a transcript for their entire discourse at the library.

In a filing cabinet she found files for investment accounts and stock holdings. The Williams Trust Corp. Just upon a few seconds of rifling through she saw that River, and she assumed Amy started with modest shares in early 20th century companies and grew to eventually invest in 49% of share holdings in the Lux corporation. She had her hands in everything, and access to every inch of the Library’s core, mainframe and programming. And she wasn’t sure but River likely even played a part in its construction with all the plans being signed off by someone Williams.

The Doctor couldn’t decide on being angry, elated, overjoyed or terrified. The one overarching feeling, however, was hope. Their fate might change. True hope, real hope seeping from a horrible constant, was an emotion so foreign in a universe where the butterfly effect hung constantly over their heads, unwaveringly on the brink of flux. 

Without a hitch the Doctor jumped to the console with the glasses in hand, focused on completion of the final task. Then she’d track down her ridiculous, amazing wife and help her circumvent the fate that had been haunting them both for more than a thousand years.

After delivering them and kissing River with every ounce of hope she had, the Doctor raced back to her TARDIS. She was prepared to make a running leap to the console and meet River back on Darillium, to head her off and figure out what the hell she was up to.

But plans change. Upon entering the TARDIS, the Doctor was stopped dead in her tracks.

"Hey," casually greeted a tall dark-haired gentleman in a fitted black suit and tie. He was casually leaning against her TARDIS’ console with folded arms but stood up and walked behind the console and flipped the lever as he continued. "I’m assuming you followed her directions and that was the last one?”

“Get off my ship. Step away NOW.”

He expertly hit a few buttons and looking at her, threw the lever again with an enigmatic smile. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

She calmly reached in her breast pocket for the sonic and held it down beside her, activating it to its highest level. “I don’t care, and I’m only asking once.”

“Fine, fine. Even though you’re not asking.” He walked around the console and leaned on it again, facing the Doctor. “I’m just supposed to tell you don’t go. Just don’t. You’re gonna see her again, but not like you. And if you do go and try to stop her,” he chuckled “you definitely won’t see her again.”

Veiled threats and laughing about River dying really, really rubbed the Doctor the wrong way. Especially when seemingly coming from herself. She pointed her sonic at him and wasn’t bluffing through a stray lock of blonde of hair. “You stay away from her. Where is she?”

He raised his hands. Unbelievably smug. “Really? You’re gonna kill me? Ha, you probably think I’m you. You know, a lot of people have bets down that you’d finally kick the bucket by murdering yourself. Man, I’d love to be the one to give Rassilon that memo.”

Her scowl turned inquisitive. “So, you’re supposed to be a Timelord and not me? Who are you? How did you get here?” She dropped the sonic to her side.

He kept that stupid smug grin on his face as he walked down from the console to her side. Looking over her with a hint of curiosity, he gently took her hand. Although she didn’t like his forward actions she could tell he was sincere, and she was curious herself. At their close proximity she could feel the temporal energy seeping from him, he was a powerful Timelord and not her.

He looked at her hand then her face. “Damn the gender changing is wild, huh?” He looked to her as if they were supposed to have some sort of casual conversation and continued. “Hey, you’ll see her again, don’t worry.” He gave a last smile and walked away; his back turned to her. “Oh, and don’t try to change what she did under the console. She needs it. You won’t make heads or tails of it any way.”

The Doctor stood there, stunned. It was falling into place. “I gave her access to the TARDIS core. She made me think she was young. But she wasn’t, was she? That lying-”

“Oh, so you’ve met her.”

“Answer me. WHO ARE YOU?” The Doctor’s voice boomed, reverberating through the console, laced with the bitterness laid by betrayal.

He turned and gave a sideways grin. “Spoilers,” he replied mockingly, making his way to the door.

“Why do you talk that way?” She knew the game well, and it was all about asking the right questions.

“I’m from New York,” he replied over his shoulder. “And that’s all you get. See ya in a few centuries, old man.” And knocked twice on the stationary door of the TARDIS before leaving. The Doctor saw the flash of him going into the vortex before the door even closed, and she collapsed on the stairs leading up to the console platform, having been drugged.

Hours later she’d awaken, ready to set some worlds on fire. But before she could come close to formulating a plan of any sort, especially with the complete lack of information she had, the Doctor found a letter perched on the far side of the console. ‘Jane’ written in deliberate calligraphy. Old, thick, texturized stationary.

_I’m sorry, my love._

_You must wait. I wish I could tell you when it will be, but you won’t know until the time comes. I’m so sorry for that too._

_Long ago I decided to put mistrust behind us. However, I can’t be responsible for you becoming something you’re not, the person I saw when I tried to tell you. You are the stronger of our union, and I could never survive with what you have been burdened, from the beginning._

_I can’t tell you it will be easy, but it’s just time, after all. And it’s time you need in order to be you and help me circumvent my fate. Our fate. And looking at you there, in the next room, before the fire smoking your pipe, I don’t think you would want things to fall differently._

_And he wants me to tell you to sit tight because I’m going to do that thing you like and…my god you are impossible!_

_It may interest you to know that although my time with you has ended, your time with me has not. I’m waiting for you on Luna starting my tenure, having returned from the Byzantium and visiting my parents. I can’t imagine how you must feel but--you promised you’d come. I need you, Jane. Just like I’ve always needed you, and loved you, since we met. Don’t tell the others._

_Your wife, who adores you to the end of time,_

_RS_

_P.S. I hope Sig was courteous, he’s been going through a phase and it’s like pulling teeth to get him to cooperate._

The Doctor was unbelievably heartbroken. But the hurt would be softened in the eyes of the very person responsible for it. Those feelings of betrayal were laced with hope, and that hope lived in her wife, now waiting for a promise to be kept. Through River’s letter, the universe allowed that the Doctor was still responsible for her survival falling into place, if it was ever going to work. But if it didn’t work this was all they had; meeting in the middle. So they did, going on many adventures together, and giggling, which was probably extraordinarily obnoxious to anyone outside of them. To this day, no other Doctor could have done what she did; putting the most value on the moment between the two, which is really the only one that truly exists, because it’s the only one you can make matter.

But as all things do, their time had to end, and River took the brunt of that heartache this time, not knowing that their life together was really just beginning. And then Bow Tie did what he usually does and handled things abhorrently, and her heart was sealed, believing that the Doctor must not love her if their only consistence is with pushing her away and moving on.

But, years later as they were residing happily on Delirium, I mean Darillium, River left for the afternoon to go ‘shopping.’ There was a wild twist of fate that was simply an evasion of some sort, from authorities of some sort into the wrong TARDIS, and in that TARDIS River met a new Doctor. The best of all the Doctors, if the narrator may take the liberty. He was the handsomest, most polite and acceptable in social situations and she won’t say it aloud but she loves him the best. And all he really did was do as he was told and made sure your dad did what he was supposed to and it took three TARDISes to save her. I’ll explain later.

As far as Bow Tie went, after that awful day on Luna he did see River again, although it was she who found him.


	12. Schrodinger's Wife

She wasn’t expecting to feel it. To feel anything. But especially she wasn't expecting to feel love.

He was in profile, slumped in an oversuffed desk chair, his fingers bracing the stop above his nose. In his other hand was a glass, probably good scotch. His legs were stretched out before him as if he’d been sitting hours, athough it was early morning.

“I can feel you now too. Why must you continually haunt me?”

If she had notions before about how the reunion would go, they settled on poorly. Completely on par with how her day had been going.

As she deactivated the perception filter, she couldn’t downplay her counter conditioning in the success of her making it through the exclusion zone around the village. She had to say ‘Hello Sweetie’ to herself at least a dozen times. Why she kept saying it was a concern until she noticed the tallies on her arm. It was probably a good idea for him to keep her away from here. The enemy of her enemy was not her friend. Although she was briefed on what to expect, a younger version of herself would have no doubt taken the opportunity and firebombed the fuck out of the Papal Mainframe and watched from a safe distance with a banana daquiri in hand. And sunglasses. She’d make Tasha watch too. It would have been nuclear. A girl can have daydreams.

But now, for some reason, being met with her brooding husband alone in a depressing hole, her recent activities went forgotten as heart was pulled a little. He’ll be stuck here two more centuries without even his TARDIS. This regeneration’s lot in life was a sad one.

With a single kick he swiveled the chair and planted a foot to settle it facing her. The soft light from the crack to Gallifrey illuminated his pale and tired face, relecting upon the silver peeking through at his temples. 

“So, data ghosts change clothes now.”

Great. She could just leave. She got her answer as to if the decoy neural relay transfer will be successful. And his timeline still seemed intact. But she was stupid and stayed.

He continued, “Finally nothing to say, eh?”

“Of course not. What in the name of timespace happened to you?”

His jaw visibly clenched. “Go, leave me alone.”

“No,” she laughed. “You look completely awful, sweetie.”

“I’m old. You haven’t noticed before.”

“You, on the other hand always noticed.”

His eyes narrowed, and with an abrupt movement he threw the glass at her, flinging scotch all over the room as it made its way.

Not expecting that, but prepared for anything, especially ill thrown crystal glass, she dodged it with a hop as it shattered on the ground a little behind where her feet had been.

He dropped his hand and his expression changed to dull surprise. “River. Is it you?”

“Yes, and hello to you too,” She scoffed. “What, have you been hallucinating? How long have you been sitting here?”

He just looked at her and with a kick, swiveled his chair back around.

“Sweetie, please, talk to me.” She approached his chair with a scowl to herself. She was doing it. She was caring. She arrived resolved to get the information and leave. If he cared about her, about them, he wouldn’t be rotting here, alone and obviously depressed. She’d have visited, just like he did for her. She’d have gotten over her homicidal impulses with minimal complaints. All he had to do was ask. Time just wasted. She has the transcript memorized, and if he knows he shows up out of the blue with a new suit and take her to Darillium, they certainly won’t end up there if he’s stuck here. Idiot.

But as love goes, she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t see him like this.

She took a wide berth. After his previous outburst, who knows what else might be projected her way, emotional ammunition aside. He’d resumed his initial prose and was darkly staring at the ground. She approached from the front and took his free hand and when he responded by entwining their fingers, she gently laid a hand on his face. He didn’t look up, but leaned into her abdomen and she embraced him, holding his head, running her hand up and down his back.

After a moment he mumbled into the sage material of her dress. “We would have destroyed worlds. Maybe the universe.” Obviously, he was snooping in on her thoughts. Hoping he hadn’t picked up too much, she pushed her reason for being there far back.

“We didn’t, my love. You didn’t. You ran, but we would have worked through it.”

He looked up at her in disbelief. Stiffly rising he clutched her shoulders, studying the bare skin under his hands in wonder. “River,” he breathed, barely audible, before abruptly pulling her close, embracing her fully. She fell into him, just like those countless times of her youth, and just feeling his arms around her was tipping her alignment. Her gut warmed and clenched for him. Just wasted.

“It isn’t that.” He eventually pulled away and gently held the side of her face. “You’re ridiculous. You’re spirited and amazing and I couldn’t keep you in a cage. And I should have taken you before the idea of without you was unimaginable. But it was too late. I couldn’t stop your fate and would’ve done anything trying. So, I left.”

“We would have been fine.” She shook her head because they seem to have forgotten where they were in timestreams. Then she remembered the truth field he told her about. Oh shit. He wasn’t kidding.

“We almost went to the beginning of time and destroyed Darillium.” He bitterly laughed.

“I remember, I was there. And had I known what you were doing you’d be in a different body right now.” She couldn’t help but respond, but it really felt good to be truthful. She was getting frustrated, because they were finding a solution.

Looking up at his aging face, his eyes were bewitching. She loved him so, so much and how they accepted the feelings between them was tragic; she knew it wasn’t just him at fault. A tear stupidly escaped and as it trailed down her cheek, she saw his eyes darken and he turned from her. As she was accustomed, she waited for whatever bomb he was going to lob her way.

Then he threw a whopper over his shoulder.

“River, you died.”

She sobered, fast. “You’ve got to be joking. Are seriously telling me this?”

“You’ve been dead this whole time. I’m in love with a dead woman. You happy now? Happy to know it? Now you do, just leave me alone. I’ll work through it myself. In the end that’s my fate any way.” His face was met with the sharp slap he saw coming.

“How dare you. That is not your story to tell.”

His eyes narrowed. “It is my story, the only way to stop it from being told is for me to stay away. The only hope of us surviving.” He turned away. “Now go.”

“Oh, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I really do. I seriously want to end you right now. You had the audacity to use information about my death to circumvent what you believed was the future, but denied that ability to me? Who had the most at stake? You could call that murder by proxy, honestly.”

He scoffed, not even noticing her talking in past tense. “By proxy of what?”

“I don’t know, the universe, time, fate, you name it! You left me in complete and utter shambles. Twice! But it’s all right, it’s just River, she’ll survive. Can’t be trusted any way. And you’re still standing there all justified.”

“And that’s why we could never make it work. You are impossible. I’m trying to save you!“

“Ah yes it’s so difficult having someone around who calls you out and holds you accountable for your terrible decisions. Decisions that aren’t even yours alone to make. Better go find someone young and pretty and slightly stupider than you and forget about it.”

And that one got her a glare over his shoulder. He was angry, she could feel it seeping from him. Mission accomplished. “This is done, River. It’s over. Whatever this is. Whatever this was. Go. I won’t ask again.”

“You didn’t ask, Sweetie. And don’t you care about why I’m here?” She purposefully let the smugness drip form her words.

“No.”

“Don’t you care about why I haven’t been picked up on the Mainframe’s scanners?” Although his back was turned, she saw his head raise, curiosity overshadowing his anger. She knew how to get him to play any time, anywhere. She’d have to delete this file anyway. Might as well keep fucking with him and at least for a few minutes, he could see what a colossal idiot he is.

Had he just told her why he had to leave, she’dve been hurt but understand. She isn’t some bloody human stuck on time. It would have been tough but she’s tough and could have kept her head down for centuries had he asked. But he of course only unloads his God complex on those he loves the most, maintaining his dominance over her universe. The amount of pain he unnecessarily caused her over and over was unimaginable. The Doctor truly wouldn’t understand until years later.

“I have one perception filter for cloaking and one transmitting your mapped gene, multiplied.”

He turned, his brow furrowed, questioning. “How the hell did you get that?”

She smiled. “You gave it to me when you sent me here.”

His eyes were wide, almost as if there was something worth hoping for. “River, how far along are you?”

She only smiled and approached him. She was starting to like the idea of a spoiler free zone and tucked in the back of her mind plans for installing one in the house. Maybe the TARDIS too. She motioned him to her. “Here, see everything. Anything you want. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

He approached with cautious curiosity. She realized the last time he saw into her mind was the first, and they almost destroyed the planet they were standing on. So when he got close enough she took the reins and blindsided him, taking the sides of his head, and forcefully brought him to her and attacked his mind with everything. His next incarnation, his next after that, his next after that, the library mainframe which they more or less created, the rebuilt screwdriver the repaired chameleon matrix in the TARDIS. The inserted teleportation drivers…and then the biggest spoiler of all that he knew existed but never could bring himself to acknowledge.

This wasn’t about him; she wrote bow tie off long ago when he left. This wasn’t even about them. He deserved to get brain smacked with reality, if only for a few precious moments.

She saw his eyes as saucers upon pulling away. “You may want to go sit down, sweetie,” she said with a satisfied grin.


	13. Schrodinger's Husband

He didn't, he looked at her anew, dumbfounded. "River," he whispered.

She just looked at him, waiting for it to sink in.

It finally did. "I was right, this isn't the end." He bitterly laughed, shaking his head. "I can't believe you did it."

"Well not yet. Might not work but if you saw the Data Ghost and you're still defending the keep, that means we're still on the right track."

He cracked a half smile. "That's why you're here."

She looked up with a knowing grin.

"River."

"Yes?" She drawled, her heart involuntarily warming, seeing him come back to life.

"He's so dapper. Looks like trouble."

"He is….a colossal pain in our backside. He's the Constructor. He got the name for designing the Library. He's really something else."

Their eyes met, sharing a smile, hers fond and his tight lipped and sad. "Sweetie, don't be upset." She took his hand. "It's all ahead. You knew about him, the whole time. I'm going to Demon's run next to tell you. I'm supposed to show you the cot."

The memory flashed in his mind, how he'd been agonizingly close to it and was daft and didn't notice the new rune. The circular text signifying the family line of his baby with Melody Pond, daughter of Amy and Rory Pond. The one sigil that would be hard evidence of who she was, and who she was in relation to him. "I told you about you being there, at Demon's Run. But I couldn't figure out when it would be. His name is Sigma, isn't it?" He gave that same little laugh from that day, the discovery reconfirmed.

"I was never sure when to go."

"That means…"

"This was how it was supposed to be all along. I wasn't supposed to go until now, " she smiled.

He looked up, trying to control his emotion. "It's impossible, I didn't want to believe it."

"You didn't want to raise a tiny psychopath alone. Which I don't blame you for. But that's not how it panned out, is it?"

"No, it's not. Nothing is." He took her other hand and looked down at them enveloped in his own. "How did I not believe that you could do it? How could I deny you the chance to try?"

She smiled. "Because I'm a thief, I never listen, and I rarely respond in an approved manner." It almost came out in Scottish.

"I never told you my name either."

She smiled. "No, you didn't"

"Do you know about what happened when your data ghost followed Clara?"

"Yes I do."

"I doubted myself, that maybe I told you, but I was sure I didn't. And then I knew it. I knew it. I saw your ghost, and I wasn't going to die. Not here. Not without taking you and giving you that screwdriver. That's kept me going, River. This place isn't the end, and I'm going to keep fighting. And now I'm going to give them hell, River. I'm going to stay here as long as it takes and then I'm going to take you to Darillium and marry you again for who knows which time and tell you my name."

"Oh sweetie, you will." She laughed. His spirit was finally showing through, it was infectious.

He laughed and spun her around, and brought her into his arms, just like a thousand times, hundreds of years ago like it was yesterday. "I'm so sorry for leaving without telling you why."

She looked at him with tearful eyes. "I'm sorry for giving you hell about what ended up being the right decision, in the end. I just wish you'd trusted me."

"I wish I did too," he laughed. "With your life at stake I had no choice, you're everything."

She smiled. "You're everything too and this is just the beginning. And being honest I more or less did the same thing to you." She immediately covered her mouth, wide eyed.

"It takes getting used to. I kind of like it."

"I kind of do too." She grinned up to him. His hope was overwhelming her. They were a complete rollercoaster and always had been, and standing before him she felt at flux. It was the force perpetually pulling her, swaying toward him as if magnetically destined. How is it possible to hate and love the same person so madly?

He took the sides of her face, "What am I going to do with you."

"Do you really need to ask that—" and before she could finish getting the words out, their mouths met, their unharnessed emotions crashing and overflowing like waves against a break. His arms wrapped around her so satisfyingly she could scarcely breathe, and she countered with a fistful of his overgrown hair as he hungrily trailed along her jawline to her ear. He never could stay in one place long.

It was so familiar yet so foreign, being with him so many times maintaining mental separation. And today experiencing telepathic sharing that should have been normal, she sensed him not in step, not quite ready, not quite bonded. Not like she was. Not like he’d be. She wondered what it was like for him in the beginning, with her feelings so young. Was like what she went through with him all those years ago?

She felt a whisper in her ear. "I hated how much I loved you. It wasn't fair. But that first day, when I felt you falling, so young, it took everything, everything I had in me to let our timelines play out. Knowing the pain we both would face, and the divide." He pulled back, imploring. "River, stay with me."

She was lost in him. In his energy, in his renewed hope.

She, in that moment wanted nothing more. She would forever be a fool for him, and he for her. The pull to be together, forthcoming, and bonded was unbearable. Looking over at the crack she knew it would only take a second for either of them to decide to fuck it all to hell.

She now felt a fraction of what he did. What he was faced with that first day on Luna when he saw the cost she paid for his meddling in political affairs, and knew the price they both would continue to pay. And here, to choose each other, again, would put everything at stake. She knew for a fact it would destroy everything. Destroy, in particular, the sum of all parts that meant more to her than both of them ever would.

She looked up at him. His eyes were settled where hers had been, on the crack, undoubtedly thinking the same thing about how easy it would be. One utterance and they'd be free. "Dear," he turned to meet her gaze, and she continued, "I can't. Demon's run, remember? He's worth it."

Upon seeing his pained smile, she realized that the two tasks had been laid out on purpose. The Doctor, the future Doctor, knew exactly what he was doing. He knew it might come to this and she'd need the ultimate reason to refuse, a reason that would make him reconsider too, even as a younger version.

Bringing her in, he embraced her, and she could sense the pain he was hiding. "I can't wait to meet him."

"I've never seen you so happy. You were an old pro. Bossing me around telling me what to do. You were a wonderful father. Are a wonderful father."

"And sending you to Demon's run next? I don't think I like the future me very much. He knows what he's doing. Learned from the best I suppose."

She grinned. "That's fine, he doesn't like you very much. None of them really do."

"What? I'm likable. I'm the master of likableness."

"None of the others really had what we have, dear."

"What do we have?"

"Oh, you know what we have," she crooned as she pulled him close.

"Complete and utter chaos?" He smiled, playfully.

"Absolute madness," she said as her mouth took his, and she embraced him so as their bodies could get no closer. If this was all they had, she wasn't going to let the moment pass dwelling on regrets. His hand lazily slid up her back and into her hair, but careful not to become tangled as was an issue he tackled early. She sighed into his mouth as she felt his other hand sneak as low as possible on her ass and possess the curve that would always be his.

River gave what she got with her hand sneaking below the waistband at his lower back, seeking contact with the bare skin beneath his shirt. But suddenly, with an abrupt lurch the Doctor lost his balance, reaching out to River's arm to regain balance.

River gasped. "Oh no!" She mentally gave herself a roundhouse to her frontal lobe.

"What?" He shook his head. "Yes something is very wrong. I'm drunk. Or drugged, or…." He searched River's face with a hurt expression. "River!"

"I'm sorry, Sweetie! I put the lipstick on thinking I'd need to erase this but I forgot about it! I'm sorry, I was right though, you do need to forget. You can't know any of this!"

She was about killed by his hurt, boyish expression as he lost his balance again and was stumbling around the room, of course angry as hell. "My God River why do you have to be…you! I have to…" And he drunkenly motioned to the crack, "do the… thing."

"I know, I know. I promise to stay and watch it. You need to lie down before you hurt yourself." As she grabbed his arm, he flung it out of her grasp and stumbled away.

"NO! I hate you. You're an awful wife and obviously can't be trusted."

She rolled her eyes. "No you don't, no I'm not, and of course you trust me. You love me just a little more than you hate me, remember? Come, dear."

"I don't know what to remember, I just know that you're terrible. And I'm forgetting something I was so, so happy about and now I don't even think I know and it's your fault."

"But you had to anyhow. I'm sorry, it's the damn truth field. Don't blame me, blame your comrades over there." He finally let her take his arm and she led the pouting Doctor to his bed across the room.

"And we were kissing, and it was so nice and I'm going to forget that too."

"I promise to kiss you again before I leave, dear."

"You'll probably just make me forget that." He sat down dramatically, the oldest toddler in the universe. Swaying, he scowled at her and abruptly plopped his head down. Pulling his legs up he defiantly turned on his side away from her to face the wall.

River sighed and looked over her now sleepy, drugged husband. She did feel terrible. This was the first time she'd had to do this to him, this incarnation. But honestly had things gone in the direction they were headed she'd have at best stayed too long and caused all sorts of havoc with that spaceship full of religious wingnuts floating above. She gently laid a hand on his neck to check him and he took her hand and dragged it to his chest.

"You told me spoilers, drugged me, made me forget important things. Now you're making me sleep alone. You know I don't like sleeping alone when you're here."

She just stared at him, incredulous. "Are you actually whining?"

"What? I have very important responsibilities and very specific needs where my apologetic wife is concerned."

She sighed and dropped her head to her chest. He was completely and utterly impossible. She looked to the door, then to the crack.

"If anyone comes you hear the mainframe alarms first." She didn't think he read her thoughts but knew what she was thinking. He tugged her hand, his usual demanding self.

"Oh fine. Just until you fall asleep." She really did feel guilty and it was the least she could do. What bothered her the most was taking away what pulled him from an undoubtedly deepening depressive spiral. But she had absolutely no say in the matter. The only other option was to throw everything away. And that wasn't an option. Her will was his, and his was hers…and they were done with rule number one. She didn't know it now, but centuries later they would become a political powerhouse as they honed their talents and drive for morality both cooperatively and adaptively. But it started with making decisions as partners.

River sighed as she slipped off her boots and laid with her husband, their bodies settling and molding together. She herself was fatigued from the long morning of infiltration, and the emotional toll of what was the norm with this incarnation. But she really did love his ridiculous, silly self more than anything, and as she melted into him and nuzzled his minky hair, her mind flowed and swirled with his, meeting and mixing like a stream into the ocean.

"River," She heard him utter in a dream.

"Yes, my love."

"Tell me about him."

And in those stolen moments of repose she showed him, and although he wouldn't remember how or why, both she and their boy he'd yet to meet would visit his dreams, for centuries to come, vivid as if they were there. His baby smell in her arms. Tiny, slobbery hands reaching for knobs on the console, chubby fistfuls constantly detangled from River’s hair. Freaking out elevator operators, asking which direction they were going and being disappointed it was only an up/down. Christmas, and Amy and Rory. They had to be dreams because the Doctor would never deserve them to be true.

The Doctor woke up with a pounding headache and an absence of River. Which was a pretty normal feeling in the scheme of things but over the past years he'd been shaking it a little. So he was confused as to why he felt like she was supposed to be there. And then he felt her there. So then it kind of made sense. And then he remembered that she was with him and he was incredibly happy but wasn't sure why or how.

A soft voice could be heard across the room, and he turned over in bed to look in its direction. It was indeed River, sitting next to the crack, talking into it.

"River! OW!" He shot up and clutched his head. "What are you doing?" The pain in his head was increased exponentially.

"Just talking to Irving. He says my dialect is awful and I need to improve it if I'm to be taken seriously. He's right, I don't think you correct me enough."

"What!"

"And they all think we need to create an audiovisual adaptation of our life, he says they were extraordinarily entertained this morning. I think he's being sarcastic."

"Oh my god. Wait I don't even remember what we talked about."

She whispered into the crack again.

"Stop what are you telling him?" The Doctor tried to get up but had to sit back down to avoid falling. His head was spinning.

"I just told him that you don't get any spoilers." She leaned to the crack listening. "And he says hello brother, and this is exactly why they have betrothals and loomlings, because our drama is ridiculous and we're both idiots." She looked over to the Doctor. "Sweetie, how do I tell Irving to eat a bag of dicks in Gallifreyan?"

"Oh don't bother. He's just being him. I ignore him."

River whispered something else and rose, crossing the room to sit beside him on his bed. "How are you feeling. I'm not sure what you remember, but I…came to visit and the truth field got us. Had to make you forget. I'm sorry."

He scowled. "I'm not happy. Well I am." He scratched his head. "I should be angry but I'm not. I think you told me something that is very good. And things weren't very good last night. I was…"

"I think I know exactly what you were thinking about when I got here," she finished with a frown.

"But it's going to be all right. Like always…nothing can touch us. I'm not sure why you're here but thank you for coming and reminding me of that." She hadn’t been able to understand it for years, but she did now. Why he'd smother at the worst times, like when she got upset and wanted to leave…because he could only have her in his life and control her fate by constantly being with her. And then why he'd turn around and just flippantly ignore her in the direst predicaments, because he knew they'd be okay.

River opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind, and gave him a sideways smile instead. "Truth field." She got up and began putting on her boots. "I should probably get going, you slept all day. Do you have something to eat for dinner? You're thin."

He scoffed, looking her up and down. "You're too thin yourself, by the way. You look as young as the day you—" In two steps she made to him, her hand covering his mouth.

"OKAY NOW! My word we're a mess," she laughed.

"How do you know what I was going to say," he was confused.

"I don't know but I won't get away with drugging you twice in one day. We have to be careful. You're taking this uncharacteristically well, I might add."

The Doctor rose, a little unsteady and River took his arm. "River, if you knew how long I've been here alone, you'd know that waking up with you here in any capacity is a dream come true." She didn't believe him, and was quite sure he couldn't feel the sting from when she lost it earlier and struck him.

Again, she started to say something but covered her mouth with a laugh. "Okay no more talking."

"Yes, no more talking. See, we really could have made things work with that one simple change."

She gave him a glare that didn't quite reach her smirk.

"Oh and you'll come back to visit. We don't have to talk. There are so many things we can do that aren't talking."

This got a sideways glance that said she'd think about it. What it really meant was she'd have to ask. She didn't see a problem with it, although getting here was a pain in the ass. But no more secrets, no more going behind his back. It about killed her doing it to Jane, and then leaving her Scot on Darillum left her a depressed mess she was afraid to show, until he let her know it was okay. A strange concept, mourning the loss of a mate in the arms of your mate, reincarnated. But in the life of a Timelord, this was a pretty normal thing, and something she didn't realize he'd take in stride.

But to conclude our current story, River met the toddler bow tie Doctor on Trenzalore quite a few times. The least she could do, they were both more or less imprisoned because of each other and he'd visited her while she did time. And of course, the Best Doctor understood and made sure she always came when she was so needed. Especially the last time, right before the end. He was in so much pain and had every right to quit but she breathed hope into him yet again…and he overcame what was supposed to be his fate, although because of River he, as always, knew he'd circumvent it somehow.

And then the Doctor became Grumpy Scot, then the Wisest Sprite, and now the Best Doctor. And the story of how River met the Best Doctor is probably the most important part. And not just because the narrator is slightly biased. It’s really when everything changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter was inspired by the song "falling" by Ben Kweller. The whole work was inspired by the song "seven bridges road" by the eagles and the concept of Schrodinger's cat, in which an entity can both be alive AND dead by the rules of the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics. You just can't observe it as one or the other or else it truly becomes dead.


	14. You never have to do anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Abortion.

The TARDIS door slammed shut upon the sound of sirens and the acute scent of ignited gunpowder.

River let out a tense sigh as her back wedged against the closed door for emphasis, although she knew they’d hold a substantial blast. As the smoke cleared, she caught her breath and gradually allowed her senses to narrow upon the interior of the only home she’d ever really known, despite its changing forms.

River felt a surge of warmth around her heart, and her belly. Jesus fucking Christ. The TARDIS was seriously saying hello to the zygote she was getting rid of.

Why was it that every turn of her life had to be so excruciatingly difficult? She’d spent most of her life tortured, incarcerated or wanted, and just as she was met with some semblance of normalcy, she’s unintentionally brainsmacked by her husband with inevitable death. Her own death he apparently witnessed and never told her about. And then, just as she’s formulating a plan of action, THIS. Although the TARDIS seemed happy about the prospects of a tiny Timelordish demon running amok, she wasn’t exactly maternal. And she knew for a fact the Doctor had no interest in a family—she’d asked him outright weeks ago when she suspected. As he stammered about it being impossible and not a good idea, she’d never seen in their years together that look of fear beneath those grumpy brows.

And she was about finished with lying and leaving, even if she did want to keep it. What’s the point of having a child if she’s probably going to die soon, especially with a father who doesn’t want it? It was hard to think about. Better to just make the problem disappear, one less person to let down, and focus on her own survival.

Well, focus on getting out of this damn time zone first. 

She took in her surroundings. New console skin. Fuck. Earth tones, dark green, wood trim. Mid 20th century modern. Classy. Music blasting. Van Morrison? Fuck.

She had absolutely no clue whose TARDIS she was in, and she needed to get out ASAP. A sprint to her library workroom would get her to the tools to fix her vortex manipulator, and without thinking, she pushed herself off the door toward the halls, speed and stealth on her mind. She wasn’t as young and practiced as she used to be and didn’t notice the step down. Tripping, she fell forward, knocking herself unconscious on the edge of the console.

So much for getting out ASAP.

“Next! Skip! GODDAMMIT TURN IT OFF!”

Turing the corner from the living corridor, the Best Doctor was miffed with his disobedient TARDIS who, at times, preferred a captive audience for her playlists. “Really how many times until you get it? I don’t want to hear…”

His voice trailed upon the sight of the sole reason he hated Clair de Lune. Sprawled halfway beneath the console.

He rushed to her side and turned her over, with a hand on her neck he sensed she was just unconscious, but the reason was unknown, of course. He looked up in the direction of the living corridor. “Jack! Jack, get in here!”

The Doctor jumped up to the PA. “Goddammit Jack you have one job. Get the hell over to the console room now!” He went back to River and resumed inspecting her, searching her hairline as the liquid arpeggiations of Debussy reverberated through the console room

“You know you never really gave me a job description other than being bossed around and verbally abused… holy shit! Is that her?” In a few steps he was beside the Doctor

“Yeah. I think she hit her head.”

“Is she ok? Will she just sleep it off and wake up like you?”

“Yeah. I think so. I hope so. Can you help me get her to bed?”

“Sure, which one.”

“Mine.”

Jack gave the Doctor’s shoulder a squeeze and they shared tight lipped smiles. He got up and went to her feet “This is it. It’s time isn’t it.”

“I don’t know, Jack. Maybe.” And together they took her to the Doctor’s bedroom.

After they got her situated, the Doctor sat beside her, thumbing over the top of her hand. “It’s been so long. It’s like touching a ghost.”

“You know, I can relate.”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Probably the only person in the universe who truly can, Jack.”

With an arm across his shoulders, he kissed the top of the Doctor’s head. “I’m gonna go and give you space to…whatever is going to happen.”

The Doctor replied with rolled eyes. “Just keep your phone on.” And as Jack turned to leave, he was stopped by the Doctor’s words. “Jack. I don’t want you to go. I know you think this changes everything. And you’re right, it will. But for the better. She makes things better, and absolutely ridiculous. I think you’ll love her.”

“You love her. And that means a lot to me. Call soon.” And he left. “Muffin!” He called from the hall.

“I swear I will find a way to kill you if you keep calling me that!”

River came to in their bed, although the smell of the sheets was unfamiliar. She sat up. The lights were off but the desk lamp across the room by the chair illuminated the familiar room with dim yellow light. Looking round, she saw that it was more or less the same, except for photographs of herself and sweet Susan above the mantle.

Well that’s a place to start. He (or she) knows me.

Her stomach turned and she bit back the surge of saliva that was no doubt preempting the last thing she ate coming up. She made it to the toilet in time, and retired there on the floor beside it, afraid to get up. She wasn’t a very experienced sick person, and here she was in what was a virtual stranger’s house. She just needed to stop being sick so she could meet whatever Doctor she was up against here, damage control and get back. But every time she tried to get up, she’d start wreching again.

“River?” Came the inevitable voice from the bedroom. Baritone, male.

A knock on the door.

“Ungh.” River replied from the bathroom floor.

The door opened and the Doctor peered in, and gasped when he saw her sprawled again.

“River, honey, are you all right? Come on, let’s get ya up and back in bed.”

She looked up at the concerned face of a new Doctor. His salted dark hair was a bit wild and the more than three days of grey stubble made for a very unkempt impression. But his hazel eyes beneath expressive brows dripped with familiarity. She had never in her life seen him.

She blinked. “I don’t know you.”

“No ya don’t, but I know you.” He took her arm and she compliantly let him help her up.

“Are you bloody Scottish again?”

“Aye wee lass.”

“You’re not serious.”

He laughed. “No I’m not Scottish.”

“Oh, thank God.” And they somehow shared a smile, despite another 180 in the labyrinth that was their life story. His eyes dropped and he focused on helping her to the bed, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought he might be a little shy. “I think I’m not done being sick.” She said as he led her to the side of the bed that had always been hers.

“I’ll grab a bin. Just lay down. I’m a bit worried you have a concussion or damage. The fall hardly broke the skin and didn’t seem terrible, but in the years I’ve known you, nausea isn’t normal.”

“I’m sure I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you’re not. How about come to the med bay and do some scans.”

River groaned and put her head down. “No, I’m fine.”

“We could jump over to the sisters of the Infinite Schism and get you checked out proper.”

“NO!” She shot up. “OK, I need to go.” And proceeded to stand up only to be hit by nausea again and made a break to the bathroom. When she finished emptying more bile from her stomach, she washed her mouth in the sink and reentered the bedroom to see the Doctor leaned back in the chair with his chin in his hand, looking at her with a knowing grin on his face.

“You OK, babe?”

She walked by with a scowl. “Babe? Who are you? And no I’m not ok, I feel terrible. Cold.”

He got up and helped her under the blankets. “Stay as long as you need. How about a tea.”

As he turned to leave, he felt her hand take his. “I’m sorry I’m like this. How long has it been. I didn’t even ask.”

He swallowed. “A little while,” his voice forced levity as his mind threw her the end of time.

It was her turn for her heart to explode. He was so much better at this.

Wordlessly she tugged at his hand, and his eyes said she didn’t have to. And her eyes said she didn’t care what he looks like now, they were each other’s and it didn’t matter.

He climbed in and spooned behind her, and it was awkward until they settled into each other. With practiced finesse he pushed a silvering curl aside with his nose and placed a kiss below her ear.

She sighed, relaxing. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always.”

“So, where are we?”

“Last time you saw me, you gave me the list.”

“I haven’t given you the list.” She was hit with his mind’s lightning processes, when he’s so close and thinking about something very complicated. “What?”

“Just fitting the past to the future.”

She turned her head to him. “Future? What do you know.”

He studied her profile. “You know I always thought you were the most beautiful when you let yourself age.”

“Changing the subject?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well sorry to say my eyesight has been getting better, if you still have that obsession with the glasses. I’m needing them less and less.”

He chuckled into her hair. “Your eyes are better? I wonder why that could be?”

She turned around and gave him a questioning look. He was grinning, she could see the secrets dancing behind his eyes, dying to get out. He was dangerously charming. “You are just full of secrets, aren’t you?”

“Mmmhmm.”

She gave him a grin. Somehow. She’d never have guessed when the day started, this is how it would end up, and it would be exactly what she needed. She relaxed into him and sighed. “I’m sorry I probably smell like sick.”

“This isn’t your normal smell? It’s been so long it’s hard to remember.”

“You’re so witty, how do you keep the ladies away.”

“You assume I only like the ladies this go round.”

River was sure her raised eyebrow was audible. “Really? How interesting. Poor Jack was too early to the party evidently.”

He chuckled. “No he ended up on time. Have you met him?”

“Yes, he was overjoyed to see me, but I’d never seen him in my life. We had drinks any way, and talked about running a bit. But I’m a married woman with a fantastic husband.”

“Well, I played with him for days until he figured out who I was. But extracurricular activities aside, I’m a married man with a fantastic wife.”

“Where on earth did you hide her? I hope she isn’t upset.”

“In the library, where I store them all.”

River gasped, and he chuckled into her hair; she practically felt him smiling behind her.

“What about spoilers? Wait, do you know I-?”

“Yes, I know you know. Let’s just say I put it together.”

She was speechless. And he understood and let it settle. They lay in silence as she clutched his hand and her mind raced.

“Your mind is racing. Would some spoilers help?” She wasn’t sure and didn’t answer, so he continued. “Jane found out what you’re up to, and then I guess we try to figure it out but that of course hasn’t happened yet.”

She was silent and holding her breath, knowing there was more. Of course, there was more. There was always more.

“And I’m also quite sure you’re pregnant, that’s why you’re barfing all over the place and were off like a shot when I mentioned the infinite schism.” He was smiling again. Her body stiffened but relaxed when he kissed behind her ear. “It’s okay. I know you’re afraid. I’ve been getting used to the idea for a long time.”

Meanwhile, River had been fighting an emotional battle between running away and breaking into tears. And tears won.

She’d spent weeks angry at the situation, at herself, at him, and at the cluster of cells. He never told her to be careful. She’d never had anything like a reproductive cycle until they settled in on Darillium, and then it was only once a year she would menstruate. So who knows when she ovulates. He’d just said that they don’t have children naturally and didn’t know much about it. Still she should have looked into it herself.

“I didn’t think it was possible,” he whispered through her hair. “I should have, I had reason to believe this was going to happen…I just couldn’t imagine it true.”

She sniffled and turned her face toward him, and he could see her tearful profile. “I still don’t think it’s true. And If I let it be true it’ll have no parents like I did. Suffer like I did.”

Those words were a heavy weight, and what they symbolized was enough to completely break someone weaker than River.

“Come here.” He pulled her into him, and as she clutched his shirt and sobbed into his chest, he held her. “River, you never have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Even if it meant probable death for them both. Even if it meant that handsome, confident Timelord with a mind powerful enough to get by with drugging him would never be. In order to work, they had to become a sum of parts, cogs in a clock, fitting and adjusting to the movements of each other. He held her until she was cried out and half asleep, silently having faith she would make the right decision and the visions of the family that visited his dreams would become real.

She woke up, better.

Freshly showered and wearing her terrycloth robe River found the Doctor in the mess hall, that was really a kitchen with a stylish island bar they usually used, and a long formal dining table they only used for special occasions, but was constantly cluttered with whatever project made its way there. He stood at the gas range, in the midst of making the perfect omlette. A few dozen imperfects that didn’t make the cut were parked arbitrarily, taking up the counterspace.

“Hey.”

“Hello Sweetie,” he replied over his shoulder.

“I don’t try to kill you anymore, you know.”

“Unconsciously.” He winked at her and turning around to the pan, licked a bit of whatever off his finger. He’d shaved, but his hair was still somewhat of an organized mess. He was wearing boxer shorts and an undershirt beneath a cooking apron. Thank god no chef hat.

She looked over him with narrowed eyes and entered, taking in the mess of omlettes scattered around. “Nice outfit. Underwear.”

“What? It’s our ship and you’re my wife. It’s your responsibility to get used to this hot body. Woman wearing a bathrobe and probably nothing else.”

“I’ll try to control myself.”

“Likewise.” He smiled mischievously.

“You’re a bit naughty, aren’t you, Doctor.”

“That means a lot coming from you.”

He got a raised eyebrow and eyes that were starting to smile. “Now, what on earth are you doing? Are you expecting guests?”

“I forgot how to make your omlette, then I remembered, but it wasn’t right. Then they came out too soft, then too hard and then the cheese not melty.”

She grabbed a mug beside the coffee pot and poured a cup. “Ahh so you’re an exhibitionist and a perfectionist.”

“Only for you, my dear.”

“I’m not buying it.” She half smiled over her steaming cup.

“You could stick around and find out.” He flipped the half moon egg onto a plate and handed it to her with a flirtatious smirk.

“Mmm Let’s start with the egg.” She actually smiled.

“Yes the start of many things.”

She stared at him dumbfounded. “Are you seriously joking about it.”

“What.” He was looking down, washing the pan in the sink and failing to contain his smile.

“My…”

“Unholy condition? Yes, well we were doing fine for centuries until you decided to get fertile.” He threw her a shit eating grin just as a launched chunk of omlette stuck to his face. “Hey! Are you sure that’s wise, with me surrounded by ammunition?”

River was grinning and chewing a mouthful behind a fork full of egg, cocked back and prepared to catapult.

“Don’t do it. You just met me. No telling how I’ll reac-“ Another chunk of egg hit him in the face.

And they made a mess and laughed like the ancient children they were, the first time in weeks for them both. After they got themselves cleaned up and dressed he told her he missed her, and to come back. And that he needed to show her something.

His mood changed and he took her hand, looking back at her with a sad smile. “This way.” They came in front of a door she knew and he opened it, ushering her in.

“Your office. You didn’t have to show me here.” 

“I know. I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand and drag you around the TARDIS again.” With a quick smile walked past her and busied himself at the desk.

As his sweet words sunk in, her stomach did a little flip. She took in the shyness he hid well with flirtation, coming from such a handsome body. It was falling in love again, over and over. “I love him you know. I don’t want to leave. But I know what’s next, it’s… ending soon.”

Her words froze him as his hand reached into the desk drawer. After a beat he continued his motion and retrieved an old letter envelope. “I know, I loved you... still love you madly. And missed you to no end.” He met her eyes for a second. “And as much as the thought of you leaving hurts, I’ve been dealing with the idea from the day I met you. So I was fine.” She looked away, not believing him, and he bent down to catch her gaze, and she saw the intensity he struggled with. “Seriously. Look at me. I’m fine. I became Jane. I was fine. I was better. River, I can’t imagine being in your position. Just know that I’ll be fine because…well read this.”

She took the envelope, old and yellowed, her formal calligraphy forming “Jane,” the ink diluted from a drop of liquid. She looked up in realization. “I’m never seeing her again.”

“Well, yes, if we decide to do this.” And River stood silent, questioning. “Just read it. Here.” He handed her the repaired vortex manipulator. “I don’t want to see you leave this room. You’re going straight back, to think things through. You have a few weeks. I’m going to be right here and help you with whatever you decide. Or you can just tell him and create a new timeline. In which case,” he inhaled, “nice knowing you.”

River stared at him wide eyed. “What the hell is in this.”

He shrugged. “Spoilers.” And he gave a last sad smile and left, shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes later the Doctor was leaning against the outside of the TARDIS, smoking a cigarette when he smelled the familiar wafting of ozone that was followed by a flash and thunder. When the electricity cleared, there was River. She walked up and leaned against the TARDIS next to him. “Hey.”

“Hey. Had some time to think?”

“Yeah.” She transferred the cigarette from his hand and with a defiant look to him, took a snappy drag. He’d never in his life seen her smoke but he deadpanned.

“You’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t have to think that long.” He took the cigarette back.

“Nope.” She folded her arms and kicked at the pebbly, disintegrating asphalt of the street corner. It was either morning or dusk, neither was sure, and it didn’t matter. “I never tell him, do I?”

“No.” 

“Knew there had to be some catch.”

“Always is.”

“Why didn’t you come find me. You broke my heart when you left.”

“You told me not to, Riv.”

“The first time in your life you trust me, and it’s that.” Taking back the cigarette, she had another drag. They spent a moment in awkward silence. “Sig. Is that who delivered the letter?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it—”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure it was.” Another awkward moment. “You know, smoking is bad for the baby.”

“Yeah.” She looked him in the eyes. He saw straight to the multi layered dominance she’d spent a lifetime camouflaging with flirtation and opposition, borne of being stuck in a time not ready for her. All pretense was gone, there was no need for it, she was in her time now. She flicked the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “You should probably quit too.”

“Yeah.” He grinned at her, his hearts beginning to soar.

“Come on, Theta.” She walked around him and opened the TARDIS door. “And if you think this having a baby business gives you an excuse to be bossy, just you wait.”

“Of course, Darling. I’ve raised 10 children but never paid any attention at all.”

“I heard that!” Came River’s voice from inside the TARDIS. The Doctor chuckled, pulling the box of cigarettes out of his pocket and looked at them as he walked to the nearby dumpster. He crumpled them and tossed them in, returning to their ship. The silly grin on his face would be a fixture for weeks and drive River nuts, but she wouldn’t understand. As far as she was concerned, the real work was beginning. But to him, they were that much closer to free. Free from prisons, spoilers, prophecies, foreseen death. Together, he was ready to take on every tomorrow the universe had coming for them. And he’d finally grow into the role of the legendary Timelord he was; not by destroying adversaries or preserving sordid histories or even manipulating timelines. He finally learned that it wasn’t about saving the universe, it was about building a universe he was happy in.

And Bowtie was wrong, of course. Living doesn’t lose its magic after 3,000 years. Sometimes it takes 3,000 years for life to really begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.


End file.
